


A Little Less F*cked Up

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: ALLF*U [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: American Football, Babies, Birthday, Childbirth, Coming Out, Complicated Relationships, Death in Childbirth, Does Anybody Like Jacob ben Israel?, First Kiss, Gen, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Grief/Mourning, Grinding, Guilt, Happily Ever After, High School, Hospitals, Kurtcedes friendship, M/M, Maternal Mortality, Medical Terminology, Mild Homophobic Language, Parental worries, Playdates, Pre-Relationship, Pregnancy, Single Parents, Sort-of-kind-of Past Finn/Rachel, Teenage Parents, Will Schuester Is Actually a Good Teacher in This Verse, blame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-05 16:16:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 68,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When things go horribly wrong during Quinn's birth, Puck finds himself alone in a room with his newborn daughter for several hours. Holding her in his arms makes Puck change his mind about what's best for the two of them. Finn soon finds himself in the position of co-parenting his ex-girlfriend and on-again, off-again best friend's baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Maternal Mortality

**Author's Note:**

> Despite spending more on average per pregnancy than any other country, the United States still ranks 50th in the world for maternal mortality, with 13-15 maternal deaths per 100,000 live births. Risk of maternal mortality can be impacted by racial, cultural, socioeconomic, and age-related disparity in care; lack of access to adequate pre- and post-natal care; lack of insurance; an increase in high-risk pregnancies; overuse of medical/obstetrical interventions such as labor induction and augmentation and cesarean delivery. 
> 
> You can read more about maternal mortality and morbidity in the United States [here](http://www.arhp.org/publications-and-resources/contraception-journal/march-2011). 
> 
> You can learn more about global trends in maternal mortality [here](http://whqlibdoc.who.int/publications/2012/9789241503631_eng.pdf).

The entire hospital experience is surreal. Quinn is breathing funny, Mercedes gives Puck the stink-eye periodically, and Puck feels like there’s something he should be doing, but he doesn’t have a clue what that something is. When the alarms start going off, it doesn’t even register with him at first, because there’s been beeping and other sounds the entire time. 

It’s not until two nurses and a doctor run in, and Mercedes is told to leave, and Puck is pushed against a wall, that Puck realizes something is seriously wrong, and that the alarms have something to do with Quinn or Beth. It doesn’t take much longer for him to realize that it’s Quinn, not Beth, or at least only Beth as far as she’s depending on Quinn for oxygen and stuff. Quinn’s heart rate is low, her blood pressure is dropping, and she passes out before anyone even starts to explain any of it to Puck. 

The only hope for either of them, the nurse says, is a crash c-section. They’ll take Quinn up immediately, and Puck can wait right outside the door. Assuming Beth is fine, he can even go with Beth straight to a postpartum room, hold her when they get there. The nurse doesn’t say what will happen with Quinn, and as Puck follows the nurse down a hallway, he decides not to ask. 

Puck stands outside the door longer than he expected to, but he has no idea how much time’s really passed, and then the door suddenly swings open, a different nurse pushing one of the bassinette-things in front of him, a blanket-wrapped, pink-hatted baby lying in it. 

“That’s her?” Puck says, suddenly feeling like he can’t breathe. His _daughter_ , Beth, lying right there in front of him. 

“Yes, this is your daughter,” the nurse says, and the worried look on his face is replaced by a smile that does reassure Puck, at least somewhat. “Let’s get the two of you to a room. Did you have a name picked out?”

“Beth,” Puck answers quickly. “Her name’s Beth.” 

“That’s a great name,” the nurse says. “My girlfriend’s name is Elizabeth, but her mama calls her Beth. She won’t let anyone else.” He’s clearly trying to put Puck at ease, which Puck appreciates, but he wonders why, exactly. Beth’s fine, staring confusedly at him, and as soon as they’re in a room, Puck sits down in a rocking chair and picks her up, cradling her against him.

“Does… does she need to eat?”

“Maybe in a little bit,” the nurse admits. “I’ll come back and check on her and you in just a little while.” With that, the nurse hands Puck the call button, draws a curtain, and then leaves. 

“Well, hi,” Puck says to Beth, who stares up at him. “It’s just you and me for now, I guess.” He removes the pink hat, stuffing it in his pants pocket and realizing he’s still wearing his costume from their regionals performance. “Oh, Beth, sorry sweetie.” He grins at her. “You’ve got curly hair.” 

Puck traces his finger down her tiny face, across her nose, and then holds her curly-hair-covered head in his palm. “How’m I supposed to let you go?” he murmurs to her as he puts her on the bed and starts to unwrap her blanket, letting his hand trail over her small arms and legs before her fingers grab one of his. “You don’t want to let me go, huh?” he asks. “I don’t know, Bethie.” 

He re-wraps her blanket as best as he can and picks her up again. Beth studies his face while he tells her about himself, his sister, and his mom. He tells her about Finn, and how he can’t wish he’d never slept with Quinn, because of Beth herself, but he does wish he could find a way to make it up to Finn, to get his best friend back. Puck tells Beth about a lot of things, really, and she stares at him the entire time, holding on to his finger. It’s kind of awesome, the way she stares at him, the way she feels in his arms, and the way she smells. 

Well, the way she smells is awesome right up until the moment that she shakes in his arms and her butt gets warmer, and that’s when Puck realizes she needs a diaper change. It takes him five minutes to find the diapers under the bassinette, and it takes him about ten minutes to get the very dark, very sticky poop off of Beth’s butt with the wipes, but eventually Puck’s sitting in the rocking chair with Beth in a fresh diaper and wrapped up in her blanket again. 

“We did it, Bethie,” Puck says, feeling prouder than he probably should for the simple task of changing a diaper. “Wonder when your nurse is going to come back, you might want a bottle by now.”

Beth stares up at him, but Puck likes to imagine that she’s smiling just a little, smiling at him and just him. 

“You look like me,” he says, feeling awed. “You look like Quinn, too, but you look like me. I don’t know, I didn’t expect that, somehow.” Puck sings to her, going through their regionals set again and then going backwards over the weeks to things she might have heard in their glee club meetings. She likes the Lady Gaga, which Puck finds upsetting—he can’t admit to anyone that he actually sang Lady Gaga for her in the first place, and then she likes it best. 

Puck feels like hours pass before anyone comes back, the nurse carrying a bottle and followed by two other people Puck hasn’t seen before. They stand nervously while the nurse talks to Puck about how to hold the bottle, how to burp her, and how to know when she’s done eating. Beth is in the middle of her first meal when the other two people sit in front of Puck’s rocking chair, looking somber, and a lot of words Puck doesn’t really understand fly past him. 

Hypotension. Reduction of perfusion. Cardiac failure. Coma. Hemorrhagic. Amniotic fluid embolism. 

The part he does understand, the part he understands too well, is the ‘outcome’. That Quinn’s dead. That somehow, having Beth killed her, which means Quinn’s dead, and it’s Puck’s fault. His arms squeeze Beth, almost too tightly, and he realizes it’s probably time to burp her. 

“Ms. Fabray’s mother said that the two of you had decided to place the baby up for adoption?”

“Quinn—Quinn didn’t want to keep her,” Puck says, and it’s not until he speaks that he realizes he’s crying. “Does Quinn’s mom—?”

“She assumes you want to continue with the adoption plan.” 

Puck sighs, adjusting Beth’s position after she burps. “What happens if I want to keep her?” he whispers. He knows he wouldn’t have fought Quinn, not if everything had gone well, not if he was staring at Beth through a nursery window. He isn’t though, and it didn’t, and he’s spent time with his daughter now. He’s told her things, sung to her, changed her diaper, fed her, and even discovered she likes ‘Bad Romance’. 

“Of course we’d need to verify paternity,” one of the people says slowly, “but as her father, that’s certainly well within your rights.” They start talking about paperwork, and about the advantages of adoption given his age, and how they can find the ‘perfect’ placement for her, but Puck shakes his head. They change to discussing paternity testing, her birth certificate, and how long she has to stay in the hospital, and at least half of it goes over Puck’s head before Beth rumbles again. Puck changes her diaper while they watch, only taking about five minutes to get the poop off this time, and finally just as Beth is drifting off to sleep, they stand up and leave with a promise to return in the morning. 

The nurse comes back in, smiling apologetically as he takes a swab from Puck’s cheek and then from Beth’s cheek, which luckily doesn’t wake her up. “You’ve got some friends of yours, all dressed alike,” the nurse says. “Come to think of it, you are too, aren’t you? They’d like to come in and visit.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck says quietly, staring down at Beth. “After you’ve put those away?” He gestures to the swabs. “Most of them don’t need to know about it.”

“Just a few of them at a time?” 

Puck shrugs. “You might as well send them all in at once. Better they just disturb Beth and me, right?” 

The nurse chuckles quietly. “Sure. I’ll put these up, bring your Beth another bottle, and then tell your friends they can visit if they’re quiet.” 

“Thanks,” Puck says sincerely. 

“Just doing my job,” the nurse insists, but Puck knows better. Beth is his patient, not Puck; the kindness he’s showing Puck really isn’t required on his part.

The bottle comes quickly, and Beth is already drinking some of the formula when Puck can hear the rest of New Directions approaching. The door creaks open, and Puck can hear some shushing before Mr. Schue pokes his head in. 

“Puck?” Schue says. “May we come in?”

Puck nods, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Told the nurse it was fine,” he says, and Schue pushes the door open, stepping inside as the others follow him, and the first thing Puck notices is that everyone is either red-eyed or still crying. Brittany and Santana barely come into the room, huddling near the door, and neither of them are even bothering to wipe their eyes. Puck slides his eyes away from them, towards Tina and Artie, who just look stunned, Tina sniffling quietly, and from there to Mike and Matt, who also look stunned. 

Mercedes doesn’t look stunned so much as in shock, and Puck wonders how much she comprehended before she was thrown from the room. He thinks she probably needs someone to talk to, more than Schue would realize. She’s leaning on Kurt, his arm around her, though Kurt looks a little shaky himself. Schue is pale, but nowhere near as pale as Finn, who has kept walking towards Puck. Rachel is still walking, too, walking all the way up to Puck and then suddenly hugging him. 

Puck can feel himself startle, but Beth doesn’t wake up, and after a moment, Rachel releases him. Rationally, Puck knows not everyone is staring at him, but he feels like they are, and he exhales. 

“Hey,” he finally says. 

“Hey,” Finn replies softly. He stares down at his own hands like he doesn’t know what they are or what to do with them.

“So, um.” Puck clears his throat. “Did they just tell you guys? What did they tell you?”

“About fifteen minutes ago,” Schue says quietly. “It was some kind of embolism, pretty rare. That’s—Mrs. Fabray was still—”

“Yeah.” Puck looks around the room again, then between Mercedes and Finn a few times. “So this is Beth.” He tilts her slightly, the bottle still in her mouth. 

“She’s beautiful,” Mercedes says. Everyone else nods. 

“Thanks,” Puck says. “I think that’s mostly—well.” He swallows hard and looks back down at Beth. “Done?” he asks her, the bottle falling out of her mouth, and he puts it aside, lifting her up to burp her. 

“Do you need anything?” Schue asks, then looks sheepish. “I mean, in the next twelve hours or so.” 

“Maybe some dinner,” Puck says after thinking about it. “Fresh shirt. They’ve got her covered pretty well. Bottles, diapers, blanket.” 

“We can go get you dinner,” Tina speaks up, her voice thick, and she seems to be speaking for herself, Artie, Mike, Matt, and possible Brittany, Santana, and Rachel, too. 

“Absolutely,” Rachel says, which means she at least is part of that group. She steps forward and hugs Puck again, smiling at Beth, and then most of the room empties. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Puck admits to the four who are left in the room. 

“I don’t think you have to say anything,” Mercedes tells him. “I don’t know what to say, either. None of this makes any sense.”

Puck shakes his head. “No.” He looks up from Beth towards Mercedes. “Do you want to hold her?” 

“You don’t mind?” Mercedes asks, already holding out her arms. 

“I can’t hold her all the time,” Puck says wryly, carefully placing Beth in Mercedes’ arms. “Just watch out if she starts rumbling.” 

“I’ve had baby cousins. I know what the rumbling means,” Mercedes assures him. She cradles Beth to her chest, staring down at her. “I think she’s got Quinn’s nose,” Mercedes continues, her voice cracking as tears start to roll down her cheeks.

“Lucky girl,” Puck says softly. “Curly hair, though.” 

“There are worse things,” Schue says weakly, clearly trying to lighten the mood even just a little.

“Is Mrs. Fabray going to take her soon, or does she have to stay here for a while?” Mercedes asks through sniffles, wiping at her eyes with the arm not holding Beth. “Is there a certain amount of time Beth has to stay here?”

“No,” Puck says. “I mean, Mrs. Fabray isn’t taking her. I think they want her here at least a day, but I guess I’ll ask the nurse when he comes back. I don’t really remember what they said.”

“Oh. So who’s going to take her?” Mercedes asks, rocking Beth slowly in her arms. 

“Uh.” Puck wipes his hands on his pants, his arms feeling weirdly empty. “I am. I guess it’ll be a surprise for my mom.” Kurt’s head jerks up, the first time he’s really moved from just supporting Mercedes, and he stares silently at Puck, who tries not to make eye contact with him. He avoids looking at Schue, too, since he can tell Schue’s mouth is hanging open.

“You’re keeping her?” Mercedes’ voice is sharper than before, though her eyes are still wet. “Quinn wanted her to go to a good, stable home, Puck. Do you know anything at all about taking care of a baby?”

"I know how to feed her. I know how to change her diaper." He grins, a little sadly. "I know what music she likes."

Schue chuckles very quietly, and it sounds kind of sad, too. “That _is_ important knowledge, I guess.”

Kurt makes an odd noise, like he’s about to say something, then stops and is quiet for a few more seconds before he speaks. “I could go shopping,” he offers, his voice echoing in the room, even though he’s talking quietly. “If you don’t mind my taste in baby clothes.” 

Puck grins, a little less sadly than before. “Don’t tell anyone, but the song she liked the best was Gaga, so I think you’re good.” 

“Excellent taste,” Kurt says, looking down at Beth in Mercedes’ arms. He nudges Mercedes very gently. Mercedes looks down at Beth one more time, smiling at her before handing her back to Puck. “We’ll bring her some clothes tomorrow,” Kurt tells Puck, starting to head for the door with Mercedes. He stops and looks over his shoulder, gesturing at Schue. “Mr. Schuester, a moment?”

“Oh, of course!” Schue pats Puck’s shoulder. “We’ll stop back in tomorrow, like Kurt said.” With that, the three of them leave, and it’s just Puck, Beth, and Finn in the room. 

“C’mere,” Puck says after a few seconds pass. 

Finn eyes Beth nervously and steps closer. “Is she okay?” he asks, keeping his voice low. “She looks, like, _mushed_ or something.”

Puck laughs. “I should probably be offended you just said she was smushed up, but yeah, she is a little.” He shrugs. “She came through everything fine. Guess newborns are weird looking. Put your finger on her hand.”

Finn squints at Puck, which means he’s probably suspicious, but he does put his pointer finger tip on Beth’s palm. Beth’s fingers curl around Finn’s finger, just like Puck figured they would, and he grins at Finn. Finn’s eyes widen out of a squint, and his face slowly relaxes into what Puck would almost call amazement. Puck looks a little closer and decides not to mention Finn looks like he could cry at any second. 

“She’s holding my hand,” Finn whispers. “Look. Look at her.”

“Yeah,” Puck says, still grinning. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“She’s so strong. I didn’t think brand new babies would be so strong.”

“Yeah, her neck’s not, the nurse guy said to make sure to support her neck, but I guess holding on’s important,” Puck says. 

“Can I... can I hold her?” Finn asks, still staring down at Beth’s hand wrapped around his finger. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Puck says quickly, shifting Beth slightly in his arms as Finn sits. It’s a horrible day, because of Quinn, but Beth makes it better, and having his best friend there makes it a little easier, too. 

As Puck hands Beth to Finn, Finn mutters, “Support her neck,” clearly to himself, not to Puck. 

“She, uh.” Puck watches her eyes study Finn’s face. “She needs a middle name.” 

Finn’s eyebrows shoot up, and he looks a little stunned. “Are you asking _me_ to help name her?”

“I mean, you’re my best friend,” Puck says uncomfortably, his voice dropping. “And… isn’t it kinda up to us now?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah, I—I guess it is,” Finn replies. He looks down at Beth and touches her palm again. “Quinn didn’t like any of my names.”

“I don’t know what she’d think about any of this,” Puck admits. “I don’t know that she even really liked ‘Beth’ or if she just kinda took pity on me by then. And every time someone walks past the door, a part of me expects it to be her telling me I can’t hope to take care of Beth. But I’m what Beth’s got, now, so—she needs a middle name.”

“Well, Quinn really hated ‘Drizzle’, so I started looking at some other names,” Finn says. “And, well, my grandma’s name was Rosemary, and that’s kind of nice.” 

“Beth Rosemary,” Puck says slowly.

Finn looks vaguely panicked. “Or, you know, if you don’t like it, maybe, uh. Sage! Or, um... Juniper?”

“Spices?” Puck asks, feeling amused in spite of everything. “No to Beth Basil, okay? Beth Sage. Beth Juniper. What sounds the most badass?”

“Probably Juniper,” Finn says. 

“Beth Juniper Puckerman.” Puck can feel his eyes widen. “Oh, shit, my nana’s gonna flip out, and she’ll end up planning the girl-bris. The kind without any cutting.” 

Finn pulls Beth tighter against his chest. “Don’t cut her! That’s awful!”

“No, no, just the boys,” Puck assures him. “They can’t circumcise girls.” 

“Maybe don’t cut anybody! I’ll just, you know, make sure nobody does that!” Finn still looks vaguely horrified, until he looks down at Beth again, at which point his face soften. “Aww. She’s sleeping.”

“Yeah, her belly’s full I guess. You can put her in the bassinette-thing if you want to, but I’ve just been holding her,” Puck says. “I’m probably going to fuck up, but at least it won’t be from neglecting her.”

“Do you want her back? I don’t mind keeping on holding her,” Finn says. 

“Which is why you’re going to get phone calls at all hours,” Puck promises with a quiet laugh. “You can keep holding her until they kick you out. Which, I think most of the nurses and doctors don’t know what to think about us, so they might not kick you out as early.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Puck says.

“Okay,” Finn says. He wiggles his finger out of Beth’s grasp and lightly strokes her forehead and the almost non-existent bridge of her nose. “So... are you okay? Do you need to, I don’t know, talk about it yet?”

“Everything happened so fast,” Puck says softly. “I mean, there were all these machines anyway, and then they’re beeping, and moving Quinn out of the room, and I was supposed to wait outside—I guess it was an OR. Huh.” Puck shrugs. “I didn’t think about it that way, though. And then here comes this nurse, you know, pushing that thing with Beth curled up inside it.” Puck shakes his head. “Maybe if everything had gone smoothly, you know, and I’d just seen her through a window, or for just a few minutes or something, I could’ve signed the papers.” 

“But not now,” Finn says. Puck looks over at Finn and Beth, and he watches the tears falling down Finn’s face before they drip off. 

“Yep.” Puck sighs. “Forget weddings, this is the ‘for better or for worse’ stuff.”

“Yeah,” Finn agrees softly. He sniffles a little, then leans back against the seat, also leaning closer to Puck. “I’m sorry, Puck.”

“This is a fucked up world,” Puck says with a nod. “You and me, we have to make it a little less fucked up for Beth.”

Finn nods his agreement. After a long pause, he finally says, “I missed you, dude.”

Puck bumps his shoulder against Finn’s, not hard enough to jostle Beth. “I missed you, too. I told her earlier, I wouldn’t take everything back, ‘cause well. Look at her. But I missed you.”

“Whatever you guys need, you know I’m good for it, right?” Finn says. “Anything.”

“You can start with getting an Indians t-shirt for her,” Puck says with a little grin. “You know Kurt and Mercedes are going to forget about jerseys and baseball hats when they go shopping.” 

“I can do that,” Finn promises. 

“Awesome.” Puck glances at the bed in the room, then at the door. “I don’t really know anything about babies except they don’t let you sleep, so if you’re good, I’m going to nap now before they kick you out.”

“I’ll look after her while you’re sleeping. Don’t worry,” Finn says. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Thanks, dude,” Puck says, standing up and taking off his shirt before lying down in his pants and undershirt. They might kick Finn out soon, but Puck’s mostly lost track of what time it is outside the hospital room, and he has a feeling Beth can’t read a clock either. As he falls asleep, he can barely hear Finn humming, Beth still in his arms. 

 

For the first few seconds after Puck wakes up, he’s just confused. The bed feels weird, the room smells funny, and he can’t remember exactly where he is. Then everything from the day before floods back into his mind, and he sits up a little too fast, because he feels way too rested for just an hour or two’s worth of sleep. The room is mostly dark, and he blinks as his eyes try to adjust. 

“Finn?” he whispers loudly. He doesn’t get a response, but as he squints in the low light, he can see Finn standing near the door, holding Beth or something very Beth-shaped, and talking to someone that Puck doesn’t recognize. 

“Well, I mean, I guess I’m kinda like her other dad?” Finn says. 

Puck nods, even though Finn and whoever is at the door can’t see him. It’s close enough. Maybe if they’d thought of Beth having two dads earlier on, things wouldn’t have gotten so weird with the three of them. 

The other person—a woman, and as Puck’s eyes adjust, he decides she might be a nurse—says something else quietly to Finn. Finn nods his head vigorously.

“Yeah, cool, thanks,” he says. The nurse hands him what looks like a bottle before leaving, closing the door behind her, and Finn looks down at Beth. “I guess I’m gonna learn how to feed you now.”

“Luckily that part’s pretty easy,” Puck says quietly through a grin. He settles back against the bed, watching the two of them, and one of Beth’s hands is free enough from the blanket that it waves around for a minute. “You think she knows who we are?” he asks, watching Finn with her. 

“Hey,” Finn says. “Did you sleep okay? I tried not to wake you up, but the nurse was loud.”

“Yeah. Longer than I expected,” Puck admits. “Hey, Bethie-girl.”

“Did you want her back? You probably want her back,” Finn says, holding his arms out towards Puck. 

“You feed her, I’ll burp her,” Puck offers. 

“You sure? I think she likes you better. I mean, obviously she does, ‘cause you’re her dad,” Finn says, still offering Beth. “Hi, Dad!” Finn continues in a high pitched voice. “I’m hungry and this guy is too tall!”

“Oh my god,” Puck says, laughing and reaching out for her. “Too tall, huh, Bethie?” He settles her in his arms and then reaches out for the bottle.

“Yes,” Finn continues in the high pitched voice. “It was too high up. I was scared.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Puck tells Beth, offering her the bottle after taking it from Finn. “You’re a Puckerman, and that means you’re a badass, so pretty soon you’ll be telling him he’s not tall _enough_.”

“Not tall enough? If I were taller, she’d get a nosebleed,” Finn protests. 

“You can help her climb trees, at least,” Puck says. “Look at her eat. That’s my girl!”

Finn laughs. “Look at _you_ , baby-talking her.”

Puck looks up, shaking his head, and he opens his mouth before he stops and shrugs, grinning kind of wryly at Finn. “Guess we’re all gonna have to get used to it,” he says. “I probably am crazy, keeping her. But _look_ at her. I’m her dad. That’s kinda crazy, too.”

“She seems like she likes you,” Finn says. “She’s glad she’s staying with you. I can tell.”

“Yeah, she does seem to like me okay,” Puck agrees, looking back down at Beth and watching her eat. “And she eats like a Puckerman. Everything’s just gonna be different, is all.”

“Yeah. It is,” Finn says.

“Some of it’s bad different,” Puck says softly, thinking about Quinn for the first time since he woke up and promptly panicked over sleeping so long. “Some of it’s not bad, though. Maybe some of it’ll even be good different.” 

“And you’re not alone with all of this, okay?” Finn says. “You know you’ve got all of us, including me. Maybe especially me.”

Puck nods, because he knows things are going to change, but he doesn’t want one of those changes to be bawling in the middle of the night on Finn’s shoulder. Beth finishes her bottle, letting it fall out of her mouth, and Puck picks up one of the spare blankets and throws it over his shoulder. He clears his throat as he shifts Beth. 

“You wanna learn how to burp a baby?” he manages finally. 

“Sure,” Finn says. “Is it hard?”

“Not so far,” Puck says proudly. “She just lets it rip.” He hoists her up on his shoulder and starts patting her back, which produces a loud burp within the first five or six pats. “See?”

Finn laughs out loud. “That’s a lot louder than I expected!”

“Just think, she’s only a newborn. Who knows what she’ll sound like by August or September,” Puck says with a big grin as he lowers Beth from his shoulder. “Right, Bethie? You’ll win all the baby burping contests.”

“Are there baby burping contests?”

“It sounds like something at the county fair, doesn’t it?” Puck asks. “If they don’t already have it, they should add it.”

“Yeah, and she’d win for sure,” Finn says. “Oh, and that dude-nurse came by and said there was food for you. They wouldn’t let anybody back because it was past visiting hours.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right, they were bringing food. Where is it?” Puck asks, because now that Finn’s mentioned it, he does feel hungry. “Did you eat?”

“No, I was holding Beth. Besides, I had to look like I belonged here, or they were gonna kick me out, too!”

“I bet the dude-nurse wouldn’t have. You want to go find it? We can split it or something, if they brought enough for both of us.”

“Sure,” Finn says. “I’ll be right back.” He stands up and gives Beth one more longing look before leaving the little room in search of food. 

“See, we have to eat, too,” Puck tells Beth. “Your dad hasn’t had anything since lunch, which was a long time ago. And probably—huh.” Puck stops, looking at the door and then back at Beth. “What are we going to call Finn, Bethie?” Beth promptly spits up, and Puck wipes it away while he shakes his head. “No, ‘spit up’ isn’t a good name.” 

Another couple of minutes pass, Puck trying to figure out if ‘Uncle Finn’ sounds really weird or not, before Finn returns. Finn comes through the door with what looks like the top from a cardboard box full of food, which he sets down on the floor near Puck’s feet.

“There’s a few sandwiches, some chips, I think some chocolate chip cookies,” Finn says. “I guess they’d figure you’d be here awhile.”

“Awesome, we can split it, and I bet in the morning you can get us stuff from the cafeteria. Hospitals always have a cafeteria.” Puck picks up one of the bags of chips, carefully opening it and then setting it on top of Beth’s legs. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Midnight-ish. You were out for a while. I called my mom, so she knows where I’m at,” Finn explains. 

“Yeah, okay,” Puck says through a mouthful of chips. “I figured I wasn’t even going to try to explain this to mine over the phone, y’know?”

“She said she’d come pick us up tomorrow, if you need her to.”

“Yeah, that’s—oh shit, don’t babies have to have some kind of special seat?” Puck asks, making a face. “Remember when my sister was little?” 

“Dude, my mom already said something about getting her a baby seat,” Finn says. “It’s cool. Don’t stress about it.”

“And I can’t drive her around in my crappy truck,” Puck continues. “I have to get some kind of kid-friendly thing. I am _not_ getting one of those signs, though.”

“I don’t think you have to freak out about that stuff right now,” Finn says. He reaches over and pats shoulder, then sits down next to him again, getting one of the sandwiches from the box top. “This one looks like ham and cheddar. Want half?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Puck agrees. “Don’t worry, Beth, I’m not going to make you keep kosher, okay?”

Finn hands Puck half of the sandwich, also spreading a napkin open over Beth. “Don’t want to drop food all over her,” Finn explains. 

“Yeah, I think they have to have teeth to eat food,” Puck agrees. He takes a bite and almost finishes chewing it before he continues. “So you need a name, dude.”

“Uh. I have a name.”

“No, for her to call you,” Puck says. “You have to have a baby-name.”

“Oh. She can’t just call me Finn?” Finn asks. 

“Aren’t babies supposed to get to call people baby-names?” Puck says. “The people they see a lot, anyway.”

“Are they?” Finn frowns and scratches his head. “What were you thinking of?”

“I don’t know,” Puck admits. “I got to ‘Uncle Finn’ and thought that sounded weird, but at least your name isn’t Sam.”

“I can be Uncle Finn,” Finn says. 

“There you go, Bethie,” Puck says to her through another mouthful. “Uncle Finn. You’ll get used to how tall he is.” Beth yawns, and then starts rumbling. “I guess it’s that time.” 

“What’s that noise mean?” Finn asks. 

“Poop,” Puck answers with a shrug. “There’s diapers and everything under the bassinette-thing.” He puts Beth on the bed in front of him, unwrapping her blankets. “You figured you’d gone too long without a diaper change, huh?”

Finn finds diapers and baby wipes under the bassinette, handing them to Puck. Puck wrinkles his nose as he unfastens the diaper, but it doesn’t take him quite as long to wipe her clean as it did the first time. 

“You really know what you’re doing,” Finn says, sounding impressed.

Puck laughs as he puts a new diaper on Beth. “I have no fucking clue,” he admits. “This thing could be on backwards. I just figure clean and not leaking is the goal.”

“It looks like it’s on right, at least,” Finn says. “You need me to hold her again, so you can go pee or something?”

“You can hold her even if I don’t need to pee,” Puck says with a smirk, but he hands Beth to Finn and then slides off the bed, heading into the bathroom and splashing some water on his face before exiting it. “You think anyone thought about bringing us different clothes?”

“Probably not,” Finn says.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Puck says, sitting back on the bed. “She looks like you’re confusing her.”

“She’s probably just wondering where you went.”

“I can’t use a diaper, Beth,” Puck informs her. “Or I don’t, anyway.” He shrugs and looks at Finn. “We should probably all try to sleep for now.”

“I can stay up with her if you need me to,” Finn says. “She’s awake now.”

“Yeah, you just want to tell her embarrassing stories about me,” Puck says. “I see how it is. Don’t listen to everything Uncle Finn says, okay Bethie-girl?”

“She knows I’d never lie to her,” Finn insists. “You sleep.”

“You’re gonna have to sleep at some point, too,” Puck points out. “Next time she eats, we’ll switch.”

“Yeah, but I can go home and fall on my bed and sleep all night and day if I have to,” Finn says. 

“Listen to you bragging,” Puck jokes, lying back on the bed. “I’m still making you go get breakfast in the cafeteria as soon as it opens.”

“Sure thing, dude,” Finn says.

 

Puck doesn’t wake up for a long time, or at least that’s what he figures, because there’s sun coming in the window and he can hear what sounds like most of the glee club outside the door. He turns towards Finn, who is still holding Beth but is asleep sitting up, and Puck sits himself up in time for the door to open. 

“Noah?” Rachel’s voice says loudly behind the drawn curtain. 

“Shh, they’re still asleep,” Puck answers, standing up and pulling the curtain back. 

“Are you supposed to sleep holding the baby?” Mercedes asks.

“She doesn’t want to sleep in that plastic box,” Puck says, shaking his head. “I bet it’d be cold.” 

“She likes me,” Finn says without opening his eyes. 

“Okay, so only Beth’s still asleep,” Puck amends. He looks around at everyone, who are all standing more or less how they did the night before. The only real difference is Kurt is carrying three large shopping bags, which he walks forward and puts on the bed. 

“It’s mostly newborn and zero to three months size,” he says to Puck, “but there’s a few larger things as well, and a large box of diapers.” 

Puck blinks, looking at the size of the bags. “That’s _all_ baby clothes?”

“That’s not even a lot of baby clothes,” Mercedes says. “You do know you have to change a baby’s clothes like three or four times a day, right?”

“What, do you have change them every time you change their diaper or something?” Puck asks. “She’s had the same little t-shirt on all night.”

“She’s also a newborn. Once she gets out of here, you’ll see. She’ll be pooping and peeing and spitting up all over everything,” Mercedes says.

“She’s already good at the pooping. And the burping,” Puck says with a grin. “She awake yet?” he asks Finn. 

“Soon, I think. She’s making the scrunchy face.”

“Wake up, Bethie, so we can get breakfast,” Puck says, sitting down next to Finn. 

“Hummel and Mercedes said you’re keeping her,” Santana says. “Is that true?”

“Yeah. I am,” Puck says, looking up at Santana briefly. She looks both incredulous and judgmental, and Puck fights the urge to try to justify himself. 

“Is she going to sleep in your sock drawer like in that movie?” Brittany asks.

“What?” Puck shakes his head. “No, she’ll just, I don’t know. Sleep with me.”

“Is that safe? I think that my Auntie’s baby book said you shouldn’t ever let a baby sleep in your bed,” Mercedes says.

“She’s been sleeping with us all night she’s okay, see?” Finn says, tilting his arms so Beth’s face is visible. “She likes it.”

“Yeah, she’s a pretty happy girl so far,” Puck says. “Thanks for the food last night, by the way.”

“You’re quite welcome,” Rachel pipes up. “Most of us are heading back to Lima when we leave here. Do you know if Beth will be discharged today?”

Puck shrugs. “I guess so. She’s healthy and she’s eating and pooping and everything.” 

“You’ll need to get a pediatrician for her as soon as possible, of course,” Rachel starts lecturing. “I’ll make sure and ask my dads which developmental toys they found the best at helping me to realize my full potential, so you can replicate that list. And I’m sure you’ll want to enroll her in—”

“Aw, hey, she pooped again!” Finn announces loudly. “Everybody should probably go out of the room so you can change her diaper, Puck!”

Puck gives Finn a weird look, because he didn’t hear Beth rumble, but he nods. “Yeah, ‘cause of, uh. Modesty.” He looks at Kurt and Mercedes. “You two can pick out one of her outfits or whatever.”

“I’ll go get some coffee for us,” Finn says, as he stands, hands Beth off to Puck, and walks towards the door, waving his arms. “And everybody else can wait out of the room, right here, come on and wait out here.”

Kurt goes straight for whatever it is he has in mind, quickly handing Puck a baby t-shirt and a pair of baby pants with a small smile before he and Mercedes follow the rest of them out the door. 

“Guess you’re going to coordinate or whatever now,” Puck says to Beth as he takes off the t-shirt the hospital put on her. “Yeah, your diaper’s still dry, so that’s nice, right?” It takes a few minutes to maneuver the fresh t-shirt on and then pull the pants up, but he manages it, and then realizes there were tiny baby socks wrapped up in the pants. “Socks, too,” he tells Beth seriously, putting them on and then scooping her back up. “You’ll have to tell Kurt and Mercedes thank you, huh? I would have picked out more white t-shirts, not purple and pink flowers.”

A few more minutes pass before Finn pops his head back into the room. “Oh, still wiping her down?” he asks in an unnecessarily loud voice. He winks at Puck before continuing, “I’ll come give you a hand.” Once he’s in the room, he shuts the door behind him and holds up cups of coffee in each hand.

“Awesome,” Puck says. “Why the espionage?”

“Did you really want to sit through Rachel’s thirty-two point plan for Beth’s performance future?” Finn asks.

“Oh, yeah, good point. I guess she was right about the pediatrician, though,” Puck says, taking one of the cups of coffee from Finn. “You should send _her_ to get us breakfast. Well, not just her, someone that eats meat should go with her.”

“I’ll get Mike or Matt to take her.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good plan,” Puck agrees. “Oh, hey, look at her stare at the coffee cup! You think she thinks this is our bottle?”

“Maybe she just wants some coffee,” Finn says, moving his cup around, possibly to see if Beth’s eyes will follow it.

"Sorry, Bethie, you've got to be at least a week old," Puck jokes. "Only formula until then. Did they give you another bottle when you were out there?" he asks Finn.

“I talked to the ladies at the nurses’ station thingy,” Finn says. “They said they’d bring in a pack of the already-mixed kind. Oh, and I asked them when we could get you guys out of here, and they said she’s only gotta stay here until she’s 24-hours old. So, I can tell my mom to come at like three-ish?”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds good,” Puck agrees. “Hear that, Beth? We’re going to get you out of here!” He tilts her towards Finn for a moment. “I told her she was more colorful than if I’d picked out her clothes.”

“That’s a pretty outfit, Beth,” Finn coos at her. He glances back up at Puck, “How long until the Gerber Baby look kicks in?”

“I don’t know,” Puck admits. “Maybe we should ask your mom to stop at a bookstore and get a book or something.”

“Plus, we can ask her a lot of question. She knows all about that baby stuff,” Finn says.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Puck says as a nurse comes in with a pack of formula. “Is there anything else we have to do before we leave this afternoon?” he asks the nurse.

“There’s a pediatrician on staff who’ll come by to examine her later,” the nurse says. “It shouldn’t delay leaving, though.”

“Okay, cool,” Puck says, taking the pack of formula and eyeing it as she leaves. “I probably don’t want to know how much this stuff costs, do I?”

“We should see if they’ll give you some more before you leave,” Finn says. “I bet it’s really expensive.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m guessing,” Puck agrees. “And she’s a good eater, too.” He grins at Beth, whose face scrunches a little. “Yeah, you want some breakfast?”

“I’ll be back in a second,” Finn says. He opens the door and says something quietly, though Puck guesses it has something to do with people leaving. Rachel protests, and there’s some murmuring before Finn says something else. Puck still can’t tell what he’s saying, but he knows Finn well enough to know it’s unapologetic. Beth starts drinking her bottle enthusiastically, and Puck grins at her as Finn returns. 

“I’m gonna learn how to garden or something to feed her after formula,” Puck jokes.

“She’ll have to eat all her vegetables so she can grow up big and strong,” Finn says. “Do you think you’ll put her in softball or something? Maybe she could play peewee football.”

“Hear that, Beth? Uncle Finn’s got your athletic career figured out. Rachel’s going to have you performing. We’ll put Kurt in charge of academics, what do you think?” Puck says to Beth, but he smirks at Finn. “Everybody leave?”

“Yeah, I told them they had to go home,” Finn says.

Puck nods. “Yeah, I can do without the audience scoring me on this.” 

The pediatrician’s exam doesn’t take too long, and she tells Puck that yes, Beth is healthy, and Puck should take her to see her own pediatrician by the end of the week. After that, it’s just a matter of waiting for the discharge papers and for Carole to show up. Carole makes it before the discharge papers, knocking on the door while Puck’s giving Beth yet another bottle. 

“Hi boys,” Carole says as she pushes the door open. “Oh, Noah. She’s beautiful, honey!”

“Thanks,” Puck says. “She’s mostly red and a good eater right now.” 

“Just like a perfectly normal newborn,” Carole says. “Boys, I’m so, so sorry to hear about Quinn.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Finn says.

“Yeah,” Puck says softly. “That part of all this doesn’t seem real.” Puck would even admit to himself that it’s easier not to think about it, especially when there’s so many other things to think about. 

“Well, we don’t need to talk about any of that right now,” Carole assures him.

“We’re just waiting on the discharge papers,” Puck says. “Is that the thing for the car?”

“It sure is. Why don’t we put her in the seat and get the straps adjusted?” Carole suggests. “We want—Finn said her name is Beth?”

“Yeah. Beth Juniper,” Puck says, grinning at Finn. “Just sit her in the bucket part?”

“Yes, just set her right there. You’ll need to move those straps,” Carole says, hovering over Puck as he puts Beth into the seat. “No, you need to move that part. No, sweetie, the straps don’t go there, they go—”

“Hey, Mom?” Finn says. “Can you help me figure out how much formula and diapers and stuff Puck’s gonna need for Beth when he brings her home?”

Puck makes a face at Beth as he pulls on the various straps. “You’ll laugh at me soon enough,” he whispers to her. “I’m guessing none of these go over your head, so they probably go like this, what do you think?”

While he’s trying to get the straps untwisted and in the place at the same time, he can hear Finn talking to Carole along with going through the formula and diapers the hospital provided. 

“Car seats can be confusing, Finn,” Carole loud-whispers to Finn. “Even for experienced parents!”

“He can do it, okay? Just let him try. He’s good at this stuff,” Finn insists.

“I think your straps are too loose,” Puck says to Beth. “Considering I can stick my arm through them. What do you think?” Beth waves her arms around, turning her head from side to side, and Puck looks over at the bassinette-thing. “You think she wants to take a pacifier? My little sister sucked her thumb for years and that was kinda gross.”

“We can stop at the Babies R’ Us on the way back to your place, Noah,” Carole says. “We’ll pick up everything you’ll need to get started. Don’t worry, and I’m sure your mother still has some of Nicki’s old baby things around somewhere. A tub, maybe even her crib.”

“Babies need special tubs?” Finn asks. “I thought you could just wash them in the sink?”

“I just figured I’d take a bath with her,” Puck says, nodding a little. “I mean, I guess she’s too young to take a shower.”

“Well, Noah, sweetie, the first time she poops in the tub with you in it, I think you’ll understand why.”

“Ew, Mom!” FInn says, grimacing. “That’s so gross!”

“I’m just trying to be helpful, Finn,” Carole says.

“You wouldn’t poop in the tub with Dad in it, would you?” Puck asks Beth, who is starting to look either tired or bored. “Yeah, she says she’s gonna wait until you’re giving her a bath, Finn.”

“Beth! That’s so uncool!” Finn says. He leans in and whispers, “Do it for Granny Carole.”

Beth stares at Finn for a moment, then closes her eyes, and Puck shrugs. “Guess that’s a yes. Hand me one of those blankets?”

“Does she have a hat? Noah, that baby needs a hat!” Carole says. “You can’t take her outside in this weather without a hat on.”

“She has more hair than me,” Puck points out, digging into his pockets and pulling out the hat he’d stuffed in there. “I don’t think it matches her fancy outfit, though.”

“If it were up to me, you’d be wearing a hat, too,” Carole huffs.

“I bet Kurt and Mercedes could pick out some really nice hats,” Finn says. 

“Hell, they might have,” Puck admits, putting the hat on Beth and gesturing to the shopping bags. “I didn’t go through any of it yet.”

There’s another knock at the door, and a nurse comes in with a clipboard full of papers. Puck has to sign half of them, and the other half are instructions about baby things. Puck folds them in half and sticks them in the shopping bag, then looks at Finn and Carole. “Well, let’s go, I guess.”

Carole does stop at the Babies R’ Us after they leave the hospital, and Puck doesn’t spend nearly as much as he could have, or as Carole does, but it adds three more shopping bags to the collection in the back of Carole’s car. Puck opens up the pacifiers and offers one to Beth, who sucks on it approvingly, and then hands one of the two books they bought to Finn. 

“Here, tell Beth about how amazing she is, since that’s what the book says,” Puck jokes. 

“She's the most amazingest baby ever,” Finn coos at Beth. “Hey, this book has a lot of pictures. Are you gonna get Beth’s picture taken?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Puck says. “Don’t want to forget the red mushy stage, right Bethie?” Beth’s eyes close as she keeps sucking on the pacifier and Carole continues on the way to Lima. It isn’t until they’re back in Lima that Puck starts wondering what people who aren’t in glee club know about the entire damn weekend, and he realizes he has no idea what the results of Regionals were, either. Puck closes his own eyes for a moment, opening them when they pull up in front of his house. 

Puck reaches over to get Beth out of the seat, putting the blanket over her once she’s propped on his shoulder. “Let me figure out where to bring everything, and I’ll come back out and get it,” Puck says to Carole, stepping out of the car and closing the door behind him as he walks up towards the front door. He digs awkwardly in his pockets for his keys, then looks down at Beth. 

“C’mon, let’s go meet some more people.”


	2. Parental Units

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Puck makes the slow adjustment to parenthood with Finn and Carole's support, but it's disrupted by an event they can't avoid.

Finn watches the door close behind Puck and little baby Beth, surprised at how it’s _now_ , not when the doctor came out to tell them Quinn had died, that Finn suddenly feels the sadness settling on him like a heavy weight. Something about having Beth right there, holding her or watching Puck hold her, kept all the sad stuff away, but now Puck and Beth are home, and Finn misses them—both of them equally—already.

“Well, I guess we should get you home,” Carole says. “I’m sure you’d like a shower and some sleep after all of this.”

“Can we wait for just a little while?” Finn asks. “You know, just in case?”

“Just in case of what?” Carole asks. She gives Finn a strange look, like she doesn’t understand what he’s saying or why he’s saying it.

“In case they need me—need something,” Finn says. “Babies need lots of stuff, and maybe we forgot something, or maybe Mrs. Puckerman wants to ask you some questions or something, ‘cause you were there and maybe she thinks you know more about what happened. Or something.” Finn gives Carole a big, toothy smile, and she sighs, shaking her head. 

“Okay, okay,” she says. “We can stay for a few more minutes, just in case Noah’s mother has any questions.”

“Thanks, Mom. Thank you _so much_ for, like, _everything_.”

“Oh Finn,” Carole says, sighing again. “Sweetheart, I’m just so sad for all of you. This is a sad, hard, grown-up kind of thing, and I wish none of you had to go through it, least of all Noah and that poor baby.”

“He’s gonna do a really good job,” Finn says. “He’s gonna be a really good dad.”

“I’m sure he’ll do his very best, but a baby’s a lot of work,” Carole says.

“I’ll help him! We’ll all help him!” Finn insists.

Carole smiles gently at Finn and pats him on the leg. “Then he and Beth are both very lucky to have you.” She squeezes Finn’s knee, then moves her hand back to the gear shift. “I guess we should head back home now, so we can fig—”

“Mom,” Finn interrupts, because while Carole was talking, Puck’s door opened, and Puck and Beth are standing on the porch, Puck looking stunned and kind of lost. “Mom, something’s wrong!”

Carole nods and rolls down her window. “Noah, honey? Is everything okay?” she calls out. 

“Uh.” Puck looks up at Carole, then back down at Beth. “Can we… have a sleepover or something?”

Carole frowns. “What happened, Noah? Do you need me to go in and talk to your mother?”

Puck takes a few steps towards the car, shaking his head. “No, she just doesn’t want a baby around,” Puck says. “At all, actually. She said I could get my stuff, though.”

“Come get in the car, Noah,” Carole says. “Finn, you go inside and get whatever he and Beth need for tonight.”

“Some clean clothes would be awesome,” Puck admits, walking the rest of the way to the car. “Especially if this whole spitting up thing keeps getting worse.”

Once Puck is in the car, and Carole starts talking to him about maybe needing to change Beth’s brand of formula to help with the spitting up, Finn gets out of the car and storms up to Puck’s front door, opening it without knocking. Puck’s mom is seated at the dining room table, a cup of coffee in front of her, and she looks up at Finn, raising one eyebrow and then shrugging. Finn resists the urge to snatch up her coffee cup and smash it on the floor, and instead stomps through the living room towards Puck’s room. 

Finn gathers up all of the new stuff for Beth, including the carseat, plus as much of Puck’s clothes as he can shove into the ratty-looking duffel bag he finds on the floor of the closet. After hanging all the bags over his shoulders and arms, he grabs an armful of hanging clothes from the closet, hangers and all, and lastly, Puck’s guitar case. Finn can barely fit through the door with everything, but he manages it, and as he passes by Mrs. Puckerman again, still seated at the table with her stupid cup of coffee, he pauses and glares are her.

“You,” he begins, “are a _terrible_ person. I hope you die _sad_ and _alone_ and... and... _wrinkly_!” With that, he turns his back on her, and storms back out of the building, pulling the door mostly closed with his foot. 

As Finn approaches the car, Carole pops the trunk and then climbs out of the driver’s seat, looking at Finn and the many bags in dismay. Without saying anything, she takes the hanging clothes and the guitar case, and together they get everything into the trunk, other than the carseat and one bag of the baby stuff. Carole re-installs the seat base in the center seat, and then clicks the seat into the base.

“There, that’s nice and snug,” Carole says. “Noah, why don’t you get Beth strapped into her seat, and we’ll get the both of you back to our house while we figure this all out.”

“I’m riding in back with Puck and Beth,” Finn announces, getting into the back of the car on the opposite side of Beth’s seat from Puck. 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Carole says calmly. 

“C’mon, Bethie, just a little bit more in the seat,” Puck says to Beth, putting her back in the carseat and slowly fastening the straps. “After you eat again, we’ll see what else you have in those bags to spit up on, okay?”

“Well, it’s getting late, and I know you boys both need dinner,” Carole says. “I’m taking us through a drive-through, so think about what you want.”

Puck usually likes a Big Mac best, but since he’s pissed at his mom, that means he probably wants a Beef and Cheddar, so Finn says, “We want Arby’s, Mom.”

“Huh?” Puck says, looking up very briefly and then back at Beth. “How’d you know?”

“That’s always what you want to eat when you’re mad at your mom,” Finn says, shrugging. “And you like the poppers, too.”

“Well. Yeah,” Puck admits, shrugging a little. “You can’t have jalapenos yet, Beth. Wait just a few months and we’ll puree some.” Beth makes a face and starts to cry, and Puck looks a little panicked, shaking his head. “Okay, no, we won’t puree any jalapenos,” he tells her, picking up the pacifier and offering it to her again. 

“I’m sure she’s just tired,” Carole says. “We'll go through the Arby’s drive-through and then everyone can get some rest. We’ll worry about the particulars tomorrow. I think we’ve all had a long-enough day.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Finn says. Puck nods, not saying anything else as they drive. Finn pats Beth’s tummy while they’re in the line for the drive-through, because apparently the only thing she hates worse than moving cars is non-moving cars, but Puck still stays quiet until they’re back to Finn’s house, not even really saying anything while they eat. 

Once they’ve finished their food, Carole asks, “Is there anything else you boys need? Noah, I’ll see if I can’t find Finn’s old pack n’ play in the basement tomorrow, if you’re okay with her in the carseat or with you tonight.”

“I was just going to let her sleep on my chest,” Puck says. “I don’t think she likes the carseat.”

“They let him at the hospital. They said it was fine,” Finn says.

“Okay, boys. Just let me know if you need something,” Carole says. 

Finn nods, and then he grabs all of Puck’s bags and everything, carrying it up to his room. Puck follows him, still carrying Beth in his arms. Finn sets the bags and stuff down by the wall, as out of the way as he can. 

“I know it’s kinda small, but we’ll figure something out,” Finn says. “You want me to hold Beth while you, I don’t know. Take a shower or something?”

“Yeah.” Puck laughs. “Are you saying I stink?” He hands Beth to Finn and starts digging through his duffel bag. 

“You’ve got spit up all down the back of your shirt,” Finn points out. He shifts Beth up against his chest, putting on hand on her back and patting it. “So, yeah, you do.”

“Yeah, okay, fair enough,” Puck concedes, standing up with clean clothes clutched in his hand. “Have fun with Uncle Finn, Bethie,” he says over his shoulder as he heads through the door. 

“Yeah, we’re gonna have a lot of fun,” Finn whispers to Beth. “We’re gonna have some bouncing fun and some sleeping fun.” He starts to bounce gently in place, still patting Beth’s back. “Sleeping baby is so much fun!”

Beth doesn’t cry or anything, but she doesn’t close her eyes, either, so Finn keeps bouncing, but starts singing her a song to a tune that he makes up as he goes. “Bethie, Bethie Jay, she is gonna stay, with dad and Uncle Finn,” Finn sings softly. “And she isn’t gonna cry or poop on Uncle Finn, ‘cause Bethie likes him best.”

Beth snuffles into Finn’s shirt and then gets really still and extra heavy. When Finn looks down at her again, her eyes are close and she’s asleep with her mouth hanging open. He keeps singing to her quietly and bouncing her in place until Puck comes back into the room. 

“Being two days old is tiring,” Puck whispers. “Or is she technically one day old?” He sits on the edge of Finn’s bed and shakes his head. “I’ll just remember her birthday and leave it at that.”

“She’s twice as old as she was when she was born,” Finn says. “Did you want her back? Or do you want to sleep or something? I thought you and Beth could have the bed, and I can sleep on the floor on a sleeping bag, or down on the sofa, if you want. I thought maybe it’d be good if I was around, though, in case she cries or something.”

“You’re too long for the sofa,” Puck says, grinning a little. “I’m really tired and not tired at all at the same time. You think that’s a baby thing? Oh, shit, we didn’t put her in pajamas or whatever!”

“Do you think the hospital comes and takes ‘em back if you forget the pajamas?”

“Probably the closest hospital,” Puck says, looking a little wild-eyed. 

“Dude, I’m just kidding, calm down,” Finn says. “Here, scoot over, and I’ll see if I can lay her down next to you.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck agrees, lying down as he moves to the side. Finn lays Beth down in the middle of the bed, then lies down on her other side.

“I’ll just hang out here with you guys for a little while,” Finn says, “before I get my sleeping bag.” He touches Beth’s hand, and even though she’s sleeping, her fingers still curl around Finn’s finger. 

“Yeah, that’s cool.” Puck watches Beth’s fingers moving and grins. “Look at her.” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. He does look at her, with her scrunched-up sleeping eyes, and her little squooshed nose, and the way her ears look kind of folded over at the tips. “She’s awesome,” he says.

“See, Bethie?” Puck whispers. “It’s unanimous. You’re awesome.” He stifles a yawn and drops his head closer to Beth, sniffing the top of her head. “I like her without a hat better.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“If they come to take her back, we can go through your neighbors’ yards,” Puck mumbles, his eyes half-closed. 

“Yeah,” Finn agrees sleepily. “We’ll steal a bicycle and ride away.” He closes his eyes, too, feeling Beth’s hand around his finger, and soon Puck’s breathing becomes slow and regular. Finn considers staying awake and keeping watch for the people from the hospital who might come to take Beth back, but then it’s too late, and he’s asleep.

When Finn opens his eyes again, it’s lighter in his room than he expected, for how sleepy he still feels. He squints and looks around the room, noting that Puck must’ve turned the lamp on, because it’s on, and Puck has Beth in his arms, staring down at her.

“Is she okay?” Finn asks, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Is she, like, breathing and stuff?”

“She’s asleep,” Puck says, sounding puzzled. “It’s been hours since she ate, and she’s still asleep.” He frowns, running one finger along the side of Beth’s face. “She’s breathing, though.”

“Maybe she forgot she was supposed to wake up and eat,” Finn says.

“We should probably remind her. Right?” Puck says. “Shit, I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Hey, no, you’re not gonna fuck it up,” Finn says. “Look at her. She’s fine. She’s cute and squishy and sleepy. If she’s hungry, she’ll cry, right? So she’s gotta be fine.”

“Yeah, but if she forgot to eat, that’s bad,” Puck says, frowning again. “We should fix a bottle and put it under her nose or something.” 

“Okay, yeah, we can do that,” Finn says. He nods his head. “You want me to... I don’t actually know how to fix a bottle, other than just put the nipple thing on the bottles of the mixed-up stuff. Is there anything else I’m supposed to do?”

“I bet you have to shake it,” Puck says. “Like O.J.”

Puck looks like he’s on the verge of losing his shit completely, so Finn just nods. “I’ll get her a bottle. Mom put the stuff in the kitchen. Maybe you check her diaper and then when I get back, she’ll probably be mad at you, and then you can feed her, and she’ll like you again.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck agrees, putting Beth down on the bed in front of him. “Yeah. Diaper.”

“So I’ll be right back,” Finn says. He stands up and stumbles towards the door and down the hallway, managing to not fall down the stairs on his way to the kitchen. Luckily, they still have like a case full of that pre-mixed stuff, so all Finn has to do is put a nipple on it. He does shake it up really good, like Puck said, before he brings it upstairs. 

Beth is definitely mad at Puck by the time Finn gets back into the room. Her face is red, and her little fists are all balled up, and she’s not completely screaming, but she looks like she’s about to start. Finn quickly foists the bottle at Puck.

“Here! Before she explodes!” Finn says.

Puck grins at Finn as he takes the bottle, then offers it to Beth. “See, Bethie? It’s worth waking up for food.” Beth takes the nipple in her mouth, sucking at it immediately, and Puck’s grin softens a little, watching her. “Yeah, that’s my good eater.”

“See? She’s okay,” Finn says. “She can eat and we’ll all go back to sleep.”

“You’re keeping Uncle Finn from his beauty sleep,” Puck stage whispers to Beth. “And he definitely needs it.” He looks up at Finn and smirks at him.

Finn thinks to himself that Puck barely looks that much older than Beth does, and that makes him feel sad again, because none of them were supposed to be dealing with something this huge. Quinn shouldn’t be dead. Puck shouldn’t be a dad, especially all by himself. Finn shouldn’t be whatever it is he is—maybe just a really sad person. Quinn wasn’t his girlfriend anymore, and Beth isn’t his baby, but he still feels like he’s _something_ in all of this. Beth was almost his for a little while, and even if Puck really screwed some stuff up between him and Finn, Puck’s kind of a little bit Finn’s, too.

“Okay, you don’t need _that_ much?” Puck amends, his smirk falling as he looks confusedly at Finn. 

Finn shakes his head a little to snap himself out of whatever that weird headspace was, and he asks, “Is she done?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Puck says, setting the mostly-empty bottle down beside him and maneuvering Beth onto his shoulder so he can burp her. “C’mon, let ‘er rip, Beth.” 

Beth does let out a good-sized burp for such a tiny baby, especially for a tiny baby who is already almost asleep again. Finn waits for Puck to lie down with Beth again, then he switches off the lamp, still sitting on the bed watching Puck and Beth.

“You want me to go downstairs or get my sleeping bag?” Finn asks.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Puck says, waving at the other side of the bed. “Don’t be dumb.”

“Okay. I was just checking.” Finn lies down next to Puck, closer than he was earlier, now that Puck has Beth on his chest. They lie there in the dark for a while before Finn reaches for Puck’s arm, giving it a light squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay, Puck.”

Puck sighs, quiet for a few moments before he responds. “Okay. Holding you to that.”

The next time Finn wakes up, it’s because something is shuffling around in his room. He opens his eyes to see Puck pawing through all the bags of stuff from his house. Finn sits up a little bit and asks, “What’re you doing?”

Puck holds up two different tiny baby outfits, one in each hand, and apparently very serious about it, asks “Which one looks more intelligent?”

“Huh?”

“School,” Puck says, like that’s an explanation. 

“Babies don’t go to school,” Finn says. 

“Well, yeah, but we do,” Puck says. “I think I figured out which ones were pajamas. They probably don’t like it if you put them in pajamas during the day.”

“Dude, go back to bed. You don’t have to go to school today. You just had a baby.”

“Oh.” Puck frowns and looks down at Beth, who’s lying on a blanket next to Puck. “But she’s having that tummy time thing.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to go to school even if she has tummy time thing,” Finn says. “D’you want me to stay up with her for a little while so you can for-real sleep? I can walk her around and give her a tour of the house or something.”

“Okay,” Puck agrees. “But she has to have tummy time every day or she’s going to get a weird bald spot, the book said.”

“Then she’ll just look even more like you,” Finn says, standing up and scooping Beth up. “Go to sleep.”

“That’s why she’s the cutest baby,” Puck says, crawling back into Finn’s bed. “‘Cause she looks like me.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely better she was yours,” Finn says over his shoulder as he starts to walk out of the room.

“Hey, you and me’d make a hot-looking baby!” Puck calls after a moment.

Finn laughs and keeps carrying Beth down the hall. He spends a little while walking around downstairs, pointing at things on the walls and explaining who the people in the picture are—mostly him and his mom, but a few of his dad—and showing her all the windows and the furniture. After they’ve been downstairs for about forty-five minutes, Beth starts to fuss, so Finn fixes her another bottle, which she gulps down. Finn doesn’t get as impressive of a burp out of Beth, but he does get a little one, plus some spit up all down the shoulder of his t-shirt. 

“Now I smell like your dad, huh?” Finn says to Beth. “You like us to be smelly like your milk puke, don’t you Bethie Jay?” Finn starts patting Beth’s back, moving his hand in a circle, and she nuzzles into his neck. He bounces and sways in place until Beth gets limp and a little heavier, which Finn’s already figured out means she’s asleep, and then he sits in his dad’s old recliner chair, Beth still tucked up underneath his chin and both his hands spread across the back to make sure she doesn’t roll off of him, and closes his eyes, falling asleep quickly. 

Finn hears someone sniffling next to him, so the first thing he does is check Beth, who is still asleep on his chest. The next thing he does is open his eyes and look over at the sofa, where Carole is sitting and crying quietly.

“Mom? Are you okay?” Finn asks.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Finn,” Carole says, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay. I got more sleep than I thought I would,” Finn says. “What’s wrong?”

“When I woke up and realized I hadn’t heard a peep from the three of you all night, I got worried,” Carole confesses.

“We were fine, Mom.”

“I know, I know, but I’m your mother, and I’m allowed to worry,” Carole says. “I peeked into your room and saw Noah asleep, so I thought you might be down here with Beth. When I came in and saw you sitting in that chair, I just—you looked so much like your dad. He used to sleep in that chair with you when you were fussy.”

“I’m sorry I made you sad,” Finn says.

“It’s not your fault, and I’m not really sad about that. Of course I miss him, but it’s just a reminder of how much you look like him, and how much he loved you,” Carole explains. “And then I think about that poor baby, growing up without one of her parents, just like you did, and it breaks my heart.” Carole starts to cry quietly again. “I’m sorry, Finn. I know you’ve already got enough on your mind.”

“It’s okay, Mom. Really,” Finn says. He sits up a little, moving Beth from his chest into his arms. “I was thinking about this a little, and, yeah it’s really, really sad that Quinn died, and that Beth won’t ever get to know her, but if Quinn hadn’t died, she was gonna put Beth up for adoption anyway, and Beth wouldn’t have known her mom _or_ her dad. This way, at least she gets to know Puck. It’s all really sad, but that’s a good thing, right?”

Carole dabs at her eyes as she smiles at Finn. “I guess that is one way to look at it,” she says. “I’m sure Beth knows she’s very loved by the people in her life.”

Puck comes down the stairs then, yawning widely as he takes the last few steps. “She’s still asleep?” he says, sounding surprised. “And are you sure about the school thing?” He turns to Carole and nods, yawning again.

“School thing?” Carole asks.

“Tell him he doesn’t have to go to school today,” Finn says. “Probably at least all week. Probably not me, either.” 

“No, neither of you has to go to school this week,” Carole agrees. “After that, we’ll have to figure something out, of course. Maybe there’s some sort of subsidized care we can Beth into during the day.”

“I was just going to take her, at least the rest of this year,” Puck admits. “I found some kind of carrier-thing in the bags. She’s happy as long as one of us is holding her.”

“Well, we don’t have to worry about that today,” Carole says. 

“Yeah, I guess not.” Puck looks between Finn and the kitchen, then briefly at Carole before addressing Finn. “You want me to take her so you can eat? Or bring you something?”

“You eat something, and then I’ll give her to you, and I’ll eat something,” Finn says. “But, maybe Mom can make coffee?” He looks at Carole hopefully.

Carole has an odd look on her face as she looks at Finn, then at Puck, but she nods. “I can do that.”

The morning goes pretty peacefully, and it feels almost normal to be trading off Beth, changing diapers, feeding her, and watching bad daytime television. Finn catches Carole giving them both the strange look a few times, but she doesn’t say anything, and Puck actually seems to be doing sort of okay. The phone rings right after lunch, and Finn hears Carole talking to someone for a few minutes before she comes in the living room, her eyes damp.

“Boys, that was Mr. Schuester,” Carole says. 

“I found the pajamas!” Puck blurts out.

“Oh,” Carole says, looking confused. “Well, that’s good. He was calling to—well, there’s really no gentle way to say it. He spoke with Ms. Fabray, Quinn’s mother. They’re having the funeral tomorrow.” She must notice the frozen look on Puck’s face, because she quickly adds, “But nobody expects you to go if you aren’t ready! It’s perfectly fine if you don’t attend. Everyone will understand.”

“I think I do have to go,” Puck says, sounding strained. “Whether I’m ready or not, I owe Quinn that much.” 

“We’ll go,” Finn says. 

“Okay, if that’s what you both want,” Carole says. 

“Doesn’t matter what I _want_ ,” Puck says softly, low enough that Carole probably can’t hear him, and he holds his hands out towards Finn. Finn puts Beth into Puck’s arms without a second thought, and the three of them sit together on the sofa for hours, the only sounds are those coming from the tv and Beth’s little baby snuffle-noises.

When Carole comes back into the room to tell them dinner is ready, Puck looks startled. “It’s that late?” he asks. 

"It's nearly seven," Carole says, giving Finn that weird look one more time.

"Beth's like, what was the show? _Twilight Zone_ ," Finn says.

“You’re a whole day older,” Puck says to Beth. “Why are we so tired when we didn’t really do anything?” he asks Finn as they walk towards the table to eat.

"I think that paying that much attention to Bethie Jay uses a lot of energy," Finn says. "I feel like I do after two-a-days."

“I was going to read more in that book,” Puck says, getting the slightly panicked look on his face again. “And she didn’t have more tummy time. She’s gonna get that bald spot.”

"Noah, Finn never had tummy time, and look at how nice his hair is," Carole says. "All these parenting trends, when all you really need to worry about is keeping them clean, feeding them, and loving them. Beth isn't lacking any of those things."

“I forgot the pajamas last night,” Puck says, still looking panicky. “Shit! Sorry! Uh, crap. Clean. We haven’t given her a bath, either."

"The summer after Finn was born, our air conditioner broke, and we had two weeks straight of record highs," Carole says. "He spent that whole time in nothing but a diaper. Nobody minds if Beth doesn't wear pajamas, Noah, and unless she smells bad or seems uncomfortable, don't worry about bathing her, either." Carole puts her hand on Puck's shoulder. "She is clean, she is fed, and she is loved. This little girl is just fine, Noah Puckerman, and don't you let anyone tell you anything different."

Carole's eyes start to tear up again, and Finn hugs her. "Thanks, Mom," he whispers. "Thank you."

"Well," Carole says, wiping her hand across her eyes. "I hope you two are hungry, because I made twice the amount of casserole I probably needed!"

“I like casserole,” Puck says, an odd look on his face. He looks between Carole and Finn for a few moments, then nods. “You got any pictures of the diaper weeks?” he finally asks, grinning at Finn.

"Mom!" Finn says. "Tell him you don't!"

"Oh, I have a half an album," Care says. "He had the roundest little belly, and it would hang right over his diaper like a beer gut. It was so cute!"

"Mom! No!"

“Shh, we’ll look at the funny pictures of Uncle Finn later,” Puck says to Beth, smirking at Finn. “We should take more pictures of Beth.” 

"I have my old camera around here somewhere," Carole says. "Finn, after dinner, you can look for the camera, and I'll dig up that album."

"I take it back," Finn says, scowling at Carole. " _No_ thanks, Mom!"

"Oh, Beth, isn't your Uncle Finn so silly?" Carole coos at the baby.

“You’re outnumbered,” Puck says to Finn, nudging his side. “Just give up now.”

"If you're looking at those fat baby pictures, I'm taking Beth and we're playing MarioKart," Finn says. "Bethie Jay says she wants me to be Princess Peach, don't you, Bee Jay?"

“You can’t start her with MarioKart,” Puck argues. “You have to start with classic Mario and build up to something derivative like MarioKart. Beth, you have to know the history of Mario before you tackle Rainbow Road."

"Don't you listen to him, Bee Jay!" Finn insists. "He's talking crazy talk!"

Carole starts to giggle, and Finn looks up at her, not sure if he's supposed to be shocked or horrified. She keeps giggling, though, and eventually it turns into a full laugh.

"You two, I swear!" Carole says, gasping for air between laughs. "Finn, I would almost swear you and Noah were the ones that had that baby, the way you two are carrying on!"

“Well, yeah, we already said any baby we had would be hot,” Puck says, straight-faced. That just sets Carole off even worse.

"Puck, dude! Don't kill my mom!" Finn says. He points at Carole, who is red-faced and laughing hysterically. "Look at her!"

“I didn’t do anything!” Puck protests, and he gets a weird look on his face before starting to serve himself some casserole. 

"Of course you didn't," Carole says, composing herself and shooting Finn one of those mom-looks. "Noah, I will dig that album out for you in the morning. You won't believe how chubby Finn was!"

“I might,” Puck says, shooting Finn a sideways grin that’s a little smaller than before. 

"Hey! I'm not chubby!" Finn protests. 

“Not _now_ ,” Puck says, nodding. “That doesn’t mean you weren’t before."

"Have I ever been chubby since you've known me?" Finn demands, poking at his own stomach and frowning. "Bethie Jay, you hear how they treat your Uncle Finn?"

“Second grade,” Puck retorts, then laughs. “Give her a year or two and she’ll be helping us gang up on you. Right, Bethie-girl?”

"Bee Jay would never do that!" Finn says.

Puck laughs again. “She’s a Puckerman,” he stage-whispers. “Of course she would.”

"Well, this is a Hudson house, so she'll have to learn how to be a Hudson," Finn insists. 

“Yeah, your mom volunteered the album.” Puck grins at Carole and turns back to his plate. 

"Finn was a very cute baby," Carole says.

"I wasn't!" Finn says.

“Were you one of those ugly babies, then?” Puck asks, looking confused.

"No, he was a perfect little Gerber Baby," Carole says. "Ignore him. He doesn't know."

"I'm stealing Beth and running away to Alaska!" Finn declares.

"Of course you are," Carole says. "Eat more casserole first."

“You can’t steal the baby,” Puck says. 

"Uh-huh! She wants me to! She likes me!"

“You still can’t steal her,” Puck insists. 

"Can, too!" Finn says.

“Nope,” Puck says almost cheerfully, getting another helping of casserole. 

"I will," Finn insists. "Just you watch me!"

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Carole says. " _I_ am going to steal Beth, and we are running away until you two stop it."

“Stop what?” Puck asks, his face going back to seeming confused. 

"Here, you give me Beth until you finish eating," Carole says. "It's been too long since I held a little baby for more than a few minutes. Both of you eat."

Puck shrugs and carefully hands Beth to Carole, sitting back down and eating more quickly once both arms are free. Finn keeps one eye on Carole as he eats, at first, but eventually he relaxes a little. Beth, for her part, starts to fuss and wave her arms around.

"Diaper," Finn says.

“Yeah, she won’t be hungry for another half-hour,” Puck agrees.

"You boys finish your meal. I'm sure I haven't lost all my baby knowledge quite yet," Carole says, standing up with Beth and heading towards the stairs.

“Why’s she keep giving us that weird look?” Puck asks once Carole is going up the stairs. 

“Maybe she’s tired,” Finn says. “Maybe she stayed awake worrying about Beth.”

“Beth’s fine, though.” Puck looks startled, like it suddenly hit him that Beth isn’t in the same room as him. He looks down at his arms and shrugs, then keeps eating, a little more quickly than before. 

“Yeah, but you know how my mom is. She _likes_ to worry,” Finn says.

“Yeah.” Puck stops chewing and makes a face. “You think I’m going to do that?”

“Worry? Probably.”

“ _Like_ to worry.”

“Nah. You’re not like my mom,” Finn says. “You’ll be fine.”

Puck frowns and starts chewing slowly. “Maybe,” he says, making another face. “You think your mom has any ice cream hidden? We could eat while she’s still upstairs.”

“Probably,” Finn says. “She hides it underneath the box of Eggos, so I’ll just go move them and see. You can keep eating casserole if you want.”

“Your mom did say we should,” Puck points out, scooping more casserole onto his plate. “Huh, don’t people—” he cuts himself off and shrugs. 

“Don’t people what?” Finn asks, as he’s opening the freezer and moving the Eggos, finding a half-gallon of mint chocolate chip under the Eggo box.

“Bring casseroles?” Puck finishes after a few seconds. “Like, for babies. And stuff.” 

“I don’t know. I haven’t ever had a baby before,” Finn says. He sets the ice cream and a pair of spoons on the table between his seat and Puck’s.

“Maybe it’s just a Jewish thing. Or a you did it properly thing.” Puck shrugs and picks up one of the spoons. “Too bad, though, ‘cause you know what’s kinda surprising?”

“What? That you like to eat?”

“No, dude, one of Rachel’s dads makes this awesome chicken casserole with, like, turkey bacon and cheese and stuff. I guess he’s not vegan.” 

“Maybe he’ll make you a casserole when he realizes you’ve got a baby,” Finn says.

“Yeah, maybe so,” Puck says, digging into the ice cream. “I don’t know how they decide when people get casseroles. It’s probably like the bat signal.”

“I’ll tell some people that you like casseroles. Like a hint, you know?”

Puck grins around the spoon, looking a little more upbeat than he has through most of the afternoon and dinner. Carole keeps Beth upstairs long enough for Puck and Finn to eat the whole half-gallon of ice cream, and for Finn to clean up after dinner. Puck feeds Beth while Finn finishes the dishes, then looks at the clock. 

“Pajama time!” Puck announces as he burps Beth. “You think she wants ducks or zebras?”

“What’s that, Bethie Jay?” Finn asks, leaning close to Beth. He continues in the high-pitched Beth-voice, “I want skulls and Harleys!”

“Sorry, Bethie,” Puck says, shaking his head. “They only got you various barnyard and zoo animals.”

“I’m running away from home to join a biker gang!” Finn says in his Beth-voice. 

“Awesome,” Puck says. “I’m probably not supposed to encourage that, huh?” he says as they head upstairs and he goes through one of the stacks of baby clothes. “Bicycles?” he says to Beth. “Not quite a hog, but they have two wheels.”

“She likes it,” Finn says. “Look, she looks like she— _Puck_ , oh my god, look! She’s smiling at me!” Beth’s face has a tiny version of Puck’s smile on it, for just a few second. 

“You charming your Uncle Finn?” Puck says to Beth. “Shh, you don’t really have to,” he says to her, smirking at Finn. “I think you already got him wrapped around your pinkie.” 

“It’s easy, ‘cause her pinkie is so tiny,” Finn says, taking Beth’s hand. 

“Yeah, you got the Puckerman charm, huh?” Puck says, grinning at Beth and setting her carefully down on the bed. “Time for pajamas. That means you have to sleep.” 

“You think that’ll work?” Finn asks.

Puck snorts. “No, but maybe if I tell her that every day, it’ll stick by, like, six or something.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Finn says. “Okay, those jammies look like they’re gonna be way too big for her.”

“They say ‘0-3 months’,” Puck says with a shrug. “She’s zero months.”

“Yeah, but look at the feet, they look huge for her feet!”

“Maybe she’s just extra-small for a newborn,” Puck says, starting to undress Beth, which makes her mad. “Okay, okay, I’ll go faster,” he tells her.

“Hmm,” Finn says, looking at the pajamas, which actually do fit her feet a little better than he would have guessed. “Maybe she just looks smaller to me than she really is.”

“I don’t remember how much they said she weighed,” Puck says, looking sheepish. “I guess it’s on those papers, right? And I guess I’ll figure out a pediatrician or whatever later in the week.” Puck picks Beth back up off the bed, settling her against his chest. “C’mon, Bethie, sleepy-time.”

“I think she likes those jammies,” Finn says, when Beth yarns and then waves her hand around slowly. 

“It’s the wheels,” Puck says solemnly. “Why am I so tired? We should go watch more tv or something so I’m not lame and going to bed at whatever time it is right now.”

“You just had a baby,” Finn says. “You probably need a lot of extra rest.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Puck says as they go back down the stairs. “Or maybe she’s some kind of energy vampire.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely the vampire thing,” Finn says. 

They turn on the tv and watch a rerun of some hospital show, but before the episode is even over, Finn looks at Puck and sees that he and Beth have both fallen asleep. Finn nudges Puck gently with his elbow.

“Hey, Puck?” Finn says quietly. “You’re asleep on the sofa.”

Puck snorts in his sleep and his head tilts towards Finn’s shoulder, his arms still cradling Beth to his chest. Finn puts his hand on Puck’s shoulder and shakes him, also gently.

“Puck, don’t you and Beth want to sleep on the bed?”

“Hmm?” Puck responds, his eyes still closed. “Pajamas.”

“Yeah, she’s got pajamas on. You did it right,” Finn says. “You’re a really great dad. You should go upstairs and sleep in the bed.”

“What?” Puck says, blinking at Finn. “M’not asleep,” he insists a few seconds later. 

“Okay, but you should go upstairs to sleep in the bed anyway,” Finn says. 

“Huh.” Puck takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah. Okay.” He stands up carefully, one hand cradling Beth’s head, but she doesn’t even move, and Puck heads towards the stairs. “You coming?” 

“I might just stay down here to sleep,” Finn says. “So you’ve got more room.”

“Too big for the couch,” Puck says over his shoulder, climbing up the stairs. 

“Okay, maybe one more night,” Finn says, following Puck up the stairs. “In case Beth needs me.”

“Yeah,” Puck agrees, lying down on the bed and repositioning Beth slightly before closing his eyes again. “Night.”

“Goodnight, Puck. Goodnight, Bethie Jay,” Finn says, lying down on the bed next to Puck. 

“Goodnight, Uncle Finn,” Puck says, clearly trying to imitate Finn’s baby-voice, his eyes still closed. He doesn’t say anything after that, and Finn falls asleep only a little bit after Puck.

Beth wakes up on her own to eat that night, twice, and one of those times, Puck feeds her, and the other time, Finn does. Puck changes her diaper both times, though, before they all go back to sleep again. The sun is up the next time Finn opens his eyes, and Puck is sitting on the floor with most of the baby clothes piled around him, digging through bags and looking really upset.

“We need to like, sort these or something,” Puck says, staring at Finn once he notices Finn is awake.

“Yeah, we should probably get something to put ‘em in,” Finn says. “You know, if you want to stay here, which, you do, right? Want to stay here?”

“Yeah.” Puck’s mouth twitches and he shrugs, looking down at Beth, who’s on a blanket on her stomach again. “Not that we wouldn’t pick you, dude, but we kinda don’t have anywhere else to go, do we, Bethie-girl?” Beth doesn’t reply and Puck sighs. “I don’t know what babies wear to funerals. It seems like black on a baby is bad.”

“I don’t think they make black baby clothes,” Finn says, frowning. 

“But all of Beth’s clothes are so… happy,” Puck says. “Which is good, she should be happy, but a funeral isn’t happy, and…” Puck trails off, sighing again.

“Hang on a second,” Finn says. “I’ll, uh. I’ll be right back!” He stands up, grabbing his phone from his nightstand, and sprints down the stairs to the living room, where he calls Kurt. “Please be there, please pick up,” he mutters to himself while the phone rings.

“Hello?” Kurt answers. “Finn?”

“Kurt, I need you. It’s an emergency!” Finn says.

“Okay, what kind of emergency? Maybe you should hang up and call 911,” Kurt says quickly. 

“Not that kind of emergency. It’s like a, I don’t know. _Fashion_ emergency,” Finn says. “We don’t know what to put on Beth for the... You know, for Quinn’s thing later.”

“Oh, yes.” Kurt sighs into the phone. “Mercedes and I discussed that over the weekend. There’s a plain little lavender dress in the largest bag from Target. It seemed less whimsical than most baby apparel.”

“So we can put that on her, and Puck’ll stop freaking out?” Finn asks.

“Yes, you can put that on her, but I can’t speak as to Puck’s mental status. Why, precisely, is he freaking out?” 

“Because he has a baby,” Finn says. “And ‘cause of Quinn.”

“Then I suspect having Beth properly attired will not completely fix things,” Kurt says gently. “But if he has any questions about any of her clothes, Mercedes and I are both willing to answer those, at least.”

“Okay, cool. So, I guess him and Beth are gonna be staying here for a while, so maybe you can help us figure out where to put her clothes or something,” Finn says.

“My dad mentioned that,” Kurt says in the same gentle tone. “I’d be glad to help. Did you get the message Rachel sent?”

“What message?”

“Rachel said she’d arrive early and reserve a row so all—the rest of us,” Kurt corrects himself, “could sit together, so we’re supposed to look for her.” 

“Oh. Yeah, okay, that makes sense,” Finn says. “I guess I’ll go help Puck find the dress. Thanks, Kurt. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see the two—three of you later today,” Kurt says before ending the call.

“Okay. Lavender dress,” Finn says to himself. “Lavender is purple. Purple dress.” He walks back upstairs to his room, where Puck is still sorting baby clothes into piles, this time by color. “Purple dress,” Finn tells Puck.

“Purple dress?” Puck repeats. “What?”

“Kurt says the purple dress is what she should wear. Lavender.”

“Purple, purple,” Puck mutters, turning to the purple pile and starting to go through it. “Purple dress. Okay.” He holds it up and shrugs. “It looks even bigger than the pajamas.”

“That’s what Kurt and Mercedes think she should wear,” Finn says. “I didn’t argue.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck agrees. “Okay, Bethie-girl, we’ll put this on you later. If you put it on now, you’ll spit up on it.” He puts the dress down on the bed and then leans back against it. “Maybe we should give her a bath.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” Finn says. 

“Maybe your mom has, like, towels or something we can put in the sink,” Puck says after a another moment passes. “We can ask her when we go eat breakfast. Want to go eat breakfast, Beth? On today’s menu is a bottle of formula.”

“But just for you,” Finn says. “Not for me and your dad.”

Puck makes a face and nods as he picks Beth up. “Yeah, that stuff smells awful,” he says as he stands. “Almost as bad as her diapers.”

“Poor Bee Jay, having to drink that stuff all day long,” Finn says. 

“She seems to like it.” Puck shrugs. “Guess she doesn’t know any better. Just wait until you have a hamburger, Beth!” he tells her as they go down the stairs. “Hamburgers, and pizza.” 

“Oh good, you’re all up,” Carole calls out to them. “I wanted everyone to have plenty of time this morning, so we’re not rushing around. The service starts at ten, so we’ll want to—”

“Rachel’s saving a row of seats for New Directions,” Finn says. “It’s fine.”

“Okay, that’s good,” Carole says. “Noah, do you have something here that you can wear, or do I need to go by your—your mother’s place?”

Puck looks at Finn blankly. “What’d you grab?” he asks. 

“Stuff. Uh, I got a bunch of stuff on hangers, so maybe there’s something there?”

“Yeah, probably,” Puck agrees. “Oh, and hey, I’ve got my stuff from Regionals. Oh.” He freezes and then shakes his head. “My truck’s still at McKinley from Saturday.”

“We’ll swing by there after and pick it up. Make sure you have the keys with you,” Carole says. 

“Okay. We thought Beth should have a bath,” Puck says, sitting down at the table. “Maybe put a towel in the sink?”

“I bet I still have that baby tub down in the basement. Give me a few minutes and I’ll see if I can find it,” Carole says, heading for the basement stairs.

“I still don’t get the baby tub thing,” Puck whispers to Finn. 

“Me, either. Maybe it keeps the baby from going down the drain,” Finn whispers back.

“Found it!” Carole shouts up the stairs. “Finn, go get the water warmed up in the bath tub. This sits in the tub and you can lean over and wash her.”

“That’s so weird,” Puck says, shaking his head. 

“Wet babies are very slippery,” Carole warns. “You’ll see why the tub is a good idea.”

“It’s your own slip n’ slide,” Puck tells Beth, following Finn to the bathroom. “You have to work up to the real water slides.”

Finn turns on the water as Carole pokes her head through the door and says, “Don’t make it too warm. Keep it slightly cooler than you would want.”

“You might get chills,” Puck tells Beth, looking dubious as he says it, and then he starts undressing her. “Guess she’ll have to wear farm animals tonight, though.”

“The one with the little sheeps on it? That one is so cute,” Finn says. 

The baby tub doesn’t take very long to fill, and Puck takes off Beth’s diaper just before he slides her into the tub. “Too bad she doesn’t like carseats the way she likes this,” he says after a minute or two of watching Beth’s face as she moves in the water.

“When do you think her belly button’ll stop being so gross-looking?” Finn asks.

Puck shrugs. “Maybe we should make a list of questions for the doctor. Your mom was talking about changing formula or something, but then that book just said babies spit up.”

“We should see if the doctor knows one that doesn’t smell as bad,” Finn suggests. “Oh, and how long it’s okay for her to sleep without waking up.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” Puck dabs at Beth with the washcloth. “You don’t think she’s got some kind of trauma, do you?”

Finn looks down at Beth, who looks perfectly calm about the whole bath thing. “I don’t know. She seems okay to me. Maybe because they gave her to you so fast, that’s the only thing she remembers.”

“Yeah. Maybe so. I hope so.” Puck puts the washcloth on the side of the tub and picks Beth up, holding her against his t-shirt before making a face. “Oops. I think I needed the towel first.”

“Here,” Finn says, draping the towel over Beth. “You’re already wet now, but we’ll remember next time.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, maybe we’ll remember.” 

“Maybe we need to make a list of stuff to remember and hang it up on the fridge or something?”

“Yeah. And probably some kind of checklist for when she’s eaten,” Puck admits. “The days are gonna start to blur together.”

“We could put different lists in different rooms,” Finn suggests. “Like, bath stuff in the bathroom, food stuff in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, that might work,” Puck agrees, sitting on top of the closed toilet and drying Beth off. “Okay, Bethie-girl, time to figure out more clothes.”

Back in Finn’s room, Puck and Finn both start getting dressed, with Beth lying on the bed with her pacifier. The silence starts off pretty comfortable, but when it goes on and on—through Puck and Finn getting on their nice clothes, through Puck putting the lavender dress on Beth, through Finn finding a bib they can put over it—it becomes heavier and feels almost strained. Finn thinks that probably neither one of them knows what to say to the other about Quinn’s death. They never could quite figure out how to talk about her when she was alive, so there’s not a lot of hope they’ll get good at it any time soon. 

Carole taps on Finn’s door. “Boys? Are you and the baby ready?”

“Ready, Beth?” Puck mutters, nodding at Finn. 

“Yeah,” Finn calls back. “We’ll be right down, Mom.”

Finn sits in the back seat again, with Puck on Beth’s right side and Finn on her left, and the silence comes back as Carole drives them to Quinn’s family’s church. They’re there early enough that the church hasn’t really started to fill up yet, and it’s easy to see Rachel at the end of a pew near the front. As Finn gets closer, he sees Kurt and Mercedes next to Rachel, and Brittany and Santana at the far end of the same pew. 

Puck slides in ahead of Finn, sitting down next to Mercedes and nodding once at the empty space on the other side of him. Finn sits down next to Puck, putting his index finger in Beth’s hand so she’ll hold it, because it makes him feel a little better. 

“How’s that sweet little baby doing?” Mercedes asks quietly. “I think she’s grown already.”

“She’s a good eater,” Puck says. “Woke up twice last night.”

“She’s a good sleeper, too,” Finn says. 

“You have everything you need over at Finn’s?” Mercedes asks. 

“So far, anyway,” Puck says, nodding a little. “I haven’t read in the book past the part about tummy time and bald spots.”

“You’ve got plenty of time for all of that,” Mercedes says. 

“She even had a bath this morning,” Puck adds. “She has to wait to upgrade to a slip n’ slide.”

“Uh... huh,” Mercedes says, giving Puck a funny look. “You’re getting some sleep, at least?”

“Yeah, we got some rest, didn’t we, Beth?” Puck says. “She really does pretty much eat, poop, and sleep.” 

“But she’s really awesome at all of those,” Finn adds.

“I hope you’re making Finn help you out,” Mercedes says, shaking her head at Finn.

“Beth’s got him wrapped around her finger,” Puck tells her, but he turns to grin at Finn as he says it. 

“Yeah, well, she’s too little to tell no,” Finn insists. “I’ll stop before she’s big enough to ask for a pony or something.”

“Don’t worry, Bethie-girl,” Puck says. “We’ll make him get you a pony.”

Finn doesn’t have a chance to argue about the pony before the rest of New Directions arrives as a group, and they slide down so Tina can sit on the aisle, next to Artie’s chair. None of them seem surprised to see Beth there, so that’s good, at least. Matt pats the top of her head as he passes by to sit next to Brittany. 

The funeral starts not long after that. The preacher talks about the Lord calling Quinn home at such a young age, and how loved she was by her family and friends and church community, but he doesn’t say anything at all about _how_ she died, and he doesn’t even mention Beth, or that Quinn had been pregnant or had a baby at all. The service goes on for a long time, so it’s good that Beth was tired, because she sleeps for the whole thing. 

Puck stays seated when the preacher asks everyone to rise to sing a hymn, but Finn stands and looks around the church while everyone is singing. Ms. Fabray is seated in the front pew, looking pale and puffy around her eyes, with Quinn’s older sister next to her. Mr. Fabray is in the next pew back, with space on either side of him, like nobody even wanted to be near him. He doesn’t look like he’s been crying, and he doesn’t sing along with the hymn. 

When the hymn is over, and everybody sits down, Finn looks over at Puck. He has tears running down his face, but he’s not wiping them away or anything. He just holds Beth and cries without making any noise. Finn pats Puck’s arm and tries not to start crying himself, because probably Puck deserves to cry a little bit more than Finn, and Finn can always cry later if he needs to, still. 

After one more prayer, the service finally ends, and the preacher announces that there will be a reception in the fellowship hall, with light snacks. The whole New Directions row files out of the pew to head to the fellowship hall, and Kurt and Mercedes immediately flank Puck and start cooing at Beth, while Finn sort of looms behind them. Finn ends up being sent to get cookies for Puck, Kurt, and Mercedes after just a few minutes down in the fellowship hall, and he goes ahead and fills up a bunch of cups of punch, too, bringing those over and setting them on the table near Puck.

Ten or fifteen minutes after they arrive in the fellowship hall, Russell Fabray comes storming towards their table, arm outstretched and finger pointed accusingly. “You!” he says loudly, and he closes the distance between himself and Finn, almost jabbing Finn’s chest with his finger. “You did this to my daughter!” 

Finn startles, the punch sloshing out of his cup and over his hand. “I didn’t—she was just—”

“You killed her!” Russell Fabray adds, his voice low as he glares at Finn. 

“No, it was me,” Puck says very calmly. “Not Finn. Me.”

Russell Fabray turns to Puck, narrowing his eyes even more, and he doesn’t even seem to notice Beth in his anger. “You? You, what? Seduced her, made her sin, took away her _childhood_ and then it killed her!”

“The baby didn’t kill her. Don’t say that. It was me,” Puck says, and Finn can see his arms tighten just a little around Beth. Finn can also tell from the tone of Puck’s voice and the look on his face that Puck isn’t just saying this to calm Mr. Fabray down. He actually believes what he’s saying, that he’s the one who killed Quinn.

“You didn’t kill her,” Finn says to Puck. He turns to Russell Fabray and stands up, putting himself between Mr. Fabray and Puck. “He didn’t kill her. She died because something went wrong at the hospital. It could’ve happened to anybody.”

“But he’s the reason she was even there,” Mr. Fabray says, snarling at Puck, his head tilted to one side to look around Finn. 

“It’s okay, Finn,” Puck says quietly. “He’s right. Just—just let it go.” Beth chooses that particular moment to wake up, making one of her noises that means she’s thinking about getting hungry, and she must move as well, because Mr. Fabray jumps and then moves to the side even more, staring towards Puck. 

“You _kept_ it?” he yells, which makes almost everyone in the fellowship hall turn towards them. 

Finn takes another step to the side, blocking Mr. Fabray’s view of Beth. “ _Her_ name is Beth, and she’s with her dad where she belongs,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, _I_ wouldn’t abandon _my_ daughter,” Puck says quietly, but loud enough for Mr. Fabray to hear. “So maybe you aren’t the person to be discussing this with.”

Mr. Fabray opens his mouth like he’s about to start yelling, and he points his finger at Puck again, wagging it furiously. He never gets a chance to yell, though, because Carole hurries across the fellowship hall and steps between Finn and Mr. Fabray.

“That is quite enough of _that_ ,” Carole says firmly. “Russell, I’m sorry for your loss, and I know you’ve very upset right now, but you will _not_ speak to this boy in that way. You will not speak to _either_ of these boys at all, until you can do so calmly.” Carole turns and takes Finn’s arm. “Boys, I think it might be time to get Beth home, don’t you?”

Puck doesn’t say anything, just watches Russell Fabray walk across the fellowship hall, and then he says, “I didn’t mean that it would have been abandoning her, if she’d been adopted,” he says, like he’s trying to explain it to someone who’s asked, even though no one has. “I didn’t mean Qu—” he cuts himself off and shakes his head. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“I know, Noah. It’s fine,” Carole says softly. 

“Should we, uh. Say anything to Ms. Fabray?” Puck asks, swaying a little with Beth. 

“I think that can wait for another day,” Carole says. 

Puck nods, waiting for Finn to start walking towards the doors before following behind him. Finn holds the door open for Puck and Carole, giving the fellowship hall one final sweeping glare before letting the door shut behind him. 

“I’ll pull the car around. You boys just wait here for me,” Carole says. 

Puck is silent until Carole’s out of earshot, then he looks down at Beth. “He wasn’t wrong,” he says quietly.

“Yeah, he was,” Finn says.

“I’m the one that had sex with her,” Puck says bluntly. “I’m the reason she got pregnant. And something got seriously fucked up in that hospital, yeah, _while_ she was giving birth.” 

“That’s stupid,” Finn says. “That’s a stupid thing to think. She had sex with you, too. Is it her fault she’s dead, too?”

“No,” Puck scoffs. “But c’mon, you can’t tell me you don’t blame me, at least a little bit. _You_ of all people should.” 

“I think it’s too late to blame anybody,” Finn says. “I think that stupid, shitty, horrible things happen sometimes, and they don’t _have_ to be somebody’s fault!”

“But this _is_ my fault. It’s not like, legally my fault or anything. And hopefully Beth won’t hate me too much for it. But it’s still my fault.” 

“Well, I’m telling you it’s not your fault. It’s not. Quinn wanted to have that baby. She wanted her to have a good home, and now you’re giving her a good home,” Finn says. 

“Dude. _I_ don’t even technically have a home address right now,” Puck points out. “I’m not going to go demand the police arrest me or anything. It’s just something I’ve got to learn to live with.”

“If you’re the one who killed Quinn, that makes Beth a murder weapon,” Finn says. “Look at Bethie Jay and tell me she’s a weapon, Puck. You just go on and do that.” He takes a deep breath and huffs it out. “You’re such an idiot, Puck. You didn’t kill anybody.”

“Hey!” Puck protests, glaring at Finn. “That’s not the same thing, and you know it. Don’t listen to Uncle Finn, Beth.” 

“It is the same thing,” Finn says. “ _I_ know that Beth isn’t anything bad, but if you think it’s your fault Quinn died, that’s just like saying she is, and I know you don’t think that.”

“None of this makes any sense,” Puck says. “Quinn being my fault makes as much sense as anything else.” 

“We can’t start blaming people for it. It sucks. I wish it made sense, but you’re right, it doesn’t. If we starting pointing fingers, we can just keep going further and further back,” Finn says. “Maybe if I was a better boyfriend, she wouldn’t have had sex with you. Maybe if Mr. Fabray didn’t suck so much, she would’ve been happier and not had sex with anybody. It’s nobody’s fault or it’s everybody’s.”

Carole pulls up in front of the church before Puck has a chance to argue anymore with Finn. Puck puts Beth into the carseat, already strapping her in faster than he could the first day, and then Puck and Finn put on their seatbelts, sitting on either side of Beth. Puck doesn’t say anything else about it being his fault, or anything at all, really, until they’re back at Finn’s house.

“Okay, Beth,” Puck says he drops his jacket, tie, and dress shirt on the stairs, then proceeds to the living room where he sits on the couch. “It’s time to get out the yellow pages and find you a pediatrician.” He glances at Finn and then Carole, the look on his face clearly indicating that he doesn’t want to talk about Quinn, the funeral, or anything relating to either topic. “We have to find out exactly how good of an eater you are.”


	3. Student Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Puck passes the baby doctor test, and attempts to balance school, fatherhood, and sleep.

Wednesday feels like a reprieve after Tuesday, even if Beth does wake up three times overnight, instead of just two, and even if Carole sits Puck down mid-morning to talk about formula and food stamps and other government stuff he should apply for, either for himself or for Beth or both. On Thursday, Puck starts to feel a little more confident. He’s applied for the things he can, he can change a diaper a lot faster then he could at first, and when Beth starts losing it right after dinner, he actually manages to get her calmed down. 

Puck thinks that Carole probably wanted to jump in and help, but she doesn’t, and Puck feels pretty good about himself right up until the point that he goes to bed on Thursday night. Finn keeps insisting he’s going to take the couch or get out a sleeping bag, but they keep ending up on Finn’s bed, Beth either on top of Puck or between the two of them. If Puck’s completely honest with himself, he’s glad that Finn’s on the other side of Beth. Rationally, he knows she can’t roll over yet, so it’s really unlikely that she’ll roll out of the bed, but having a Finn-sized barrier between her and the edge of the bed makes Puck a happier dad. 

While he’s being completely honest with himself, lying on his side and staring at Beth through the shadows, he knows he’s _already_ worrying more. He figures he’s worried more in a week than he had the rest of his life, up until Saturday afternoon, and maybe that it’s just one of those things that’s different now, not going back to how it was. 

He’s not sure how he feels about that, either, but there’s no fucking way he’s going to complain, because the balance is still that he’s got Beth, lying right there beside him, sucking on her pacifier and sleeping. He wonders if she dreams, then sighs. He’s awake because she goes to the pediatrician in the morning, and no matter what Carole says or what Finn says, he’s not one hundred percent sold on the idea that he’s not screwing something up. The doctor has some power, Puck figures, the power to decide if he’s doing it right or wrong, and while everything he’s done has felt right, he hasn’t really done any research. He only found out about tummy time because he looked in the index under ‘hair’. He doesn’t enjoy reading that much, and when is he supposed to read, anyway? Between bottles and diaper changes? Maybe he’ll get Finn to read it out loud, or they can trade off or something. 

Puck falls asleep thinking about the pediatrician, which is probably why he dreams about the doctor giving Puck a report card on his performance over the past week. It’s almost a relief when he wakes up to Beth starting to cry next to him. 

“Shh, hang on, Beth,” Puck whispers to her, reaching for the bottle he’d set on the floor next to the bed. “Yeah, this is quicker at least for the first one, huh?” 

He screws the nipple on, shakes the bottle pretty hard, and then scoops her up to offer her the bottle only a moment or two before she would have started screaming. Just like she has all week, she starts eating enthusiastically, and Puck grins at her. 

“Yeah, you get an ‘A’ for eating, anyway,” Puck says quietly. “Probably an ‘A’ for burping, too.” He glances over at Finn, whose eyes are still closed, and then back at Beth. “Shh, Uncle Finn might actually stay asleep.” 

Puck isn’t sure if he and Finn are going to have a conversation about Quinn and Beth and everything at some point. He doesn’t want to. Even leaving Quinn’s death out of it, since he knows they disagree there, it doesn’t sound like a conversation he wants to participate in. He and Beth are living in Finn’s house—really Finn’s room—and it nags at the back of Puck’s brain. What if by not talking about it, they end up fighting about it? The first week of Beth’s life seems like a bad time to talk about it, though, not when Puck’s not even sure what’s going to happen on Monday, when they should really go back to school. 

“Uncle Finn’s awake,” Finn grumbles, not opening his eyes yet. “It’s doctor day.”

“Yeah,” Puck says. “Hopefully she’ll let us sleep more though.”

“Need me to finish feeding her?”

“You can get her next time,” Puck offers, looking at the more than half-empty bottle. “You think she’s going to wake up twice or three times tonight?”

“Two more after this one,” Finn guesses. 

“It’s not a race, Bethie-girl,” Puck jokes. “You don’t have to double your birth weight or whatever in one week. Wasn’t that what the doctor at the hospital said something about?”

“I don’t remember,” Finn says. “I’m too tired to remember anything.”

“I don’t think anyone living with a newborn’s supposed to remember anything,” Puck says, setting the empty bottle to the side and hoisting Beth onto his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s burp and go back to sleep.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Finn mutters, rolling onto his side.

Puck chuckles as Beth burps, and Puck starts to lie back down with her when he realizes he hasn’t changed her diaper. By the time he gets her clean, Beth is wide-awake, and Puck groans as he finally lies down, Beth waving her arms and making her little baby noises between the two of them. 

“Sleep, Beth,” Puck says. “You have to meet the doctor tomorrow.” Eventually, either Beth falls asleep or Puck falls asleep and she doesn’t bother waking him back up, because the next thing Puck registers is the sound of Beth sucking on something. He keeps his eyes shut, mumbling “Finn?”

“We’re fine,” Finn whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

“Little bit of rash,” Puck continues in the same mumble. “Need me to change her?”

“It’s good. We’re good,” Finn insists.

Puck spends thirty seconds or so trying to convince his body to move, then gives up and just nods. “Yeah, okay,” he says, and that’s the last thing he remembers until he hears Beth crying again. He squints at the clock, confirming it’s too early to be up for the day, and sits up, pulling Beth into his arms. 

“Finn?” he whispers once Beth is a little calmer. 

“Everything okay?” Finn answers groggily. 

“Yeah,” Puck says, rifling around for another bottle. “Uh. I’m sorry, you know.” He figures the dark is a safe way to talk about everything, because at least he doesn’t have to see Finn’s expression clearly. 

“Yeah. ‘sokay,” Finn says. “I don’t mind.”

“Huh?” Puck says as he gets the bottle to Beth. “I mean, like, all the shit.”

Finn rolls over onto his stomach, face smushed into the pillow. “Babies poop a lot.”

Puck snorts. “Like, Quinn and everything. I didn’t mean for everything to get so fucked up.”

Finn’s eyes open, and he blinks a few times, looking up at Puck like he’s trying to make his eyes focus. After a couple of seconds, he nods against the pillow. “I know.”

“And now we’ve kinda crashed your house and taken it over.” Puck shrugs. “Crashed your life, more like.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Finn says. 

“You might not say that in another month or two,” Puck warns. “But I’m going to hold you to that.” 

“Missed you,” Finn says, so softly that Puck can barely hear him.

“Yeah. Me, too,” Puck admits. “Not going to do that again.”

“You and Beth should stay,” Finn says. His voice starts to taper off, his eyes closing again. “I want you to stay.”

“Okay. Not going anywhere anytime soon, at least,” Puck says, looking down at Beth again. Her eyes are wide open, staring up at Puck, and Puck smiles at her as she finishes. “Hear that? We’re going to stay with Uncle Finn for a long time, okay?”

“Yeah,” Finn breathes, his face relaxing into sleep again.

Puck shakes his head a little and finishes burping and changing Beth before the two of them lie back down. Beth goes to sleep almost before he gets her pajamas snapped, and Puck closes his eyes gratefully. 

The morning is more rushed than the rest of them have been, because Beth’s appointment is at nine, and Carole’s heading to work again. She takes Puck’s truck, leaving them her car to take to the doctor’s office, and somehow Puck and Finn manage to get themselves and Beth ready to leave by 8:30. 

“At least the doctor’s office is close,” Puck says as they walk towards the car. “Beth doesn’t really like the carseat very much.”

“You’re sure it’s okay if I go in, too?” Finn asks. “I don’t want to, I don’t know. Make them take points off or something!”

Puck shrugs. “I don’t know why they would. I think that book said something about ‘support’ but I didn’t read that part. We should ask if there’s a video we can rent instead.”

“A ‘How to Take Care of a Baby’ video,” Finn says, nodding in agreement. 

“More like ‘Complete Idiot’s Guide to Parenting’,” Puck counters, snapping the carseat into place. “You know how to get there?”

“Sorta,” Finn says. “I know where the road is. No clue what the building looks like.”

“Close enough,” Puck says, climbing in beside Beth. “We can look at building numbers or something.” They don’t have any trouble finding the building, which Puck decides is a good sign, or finding the right offices in the building. Puck signs Beth in and then sits down in a small waiting room, ignoring the looks on everyone else’s faces. 

“I think they think we stole Beth,” he whispers to Finn. 

“Maybe they think we bought her on the black market,” Finn whispers back.

“We should tell Kurt and Mercedes thanks,” Puck says, bouncing Beth a little when she starts to fuss. “Beth looks prettier than the rest of these kids.” 

“Of course she does. She’s the prettiest baby in the world,” Finn insists. 

“Well, yeah.” Puck grins at Finn. “But it’s good other people’ll realize it, right?” 

“Yeah. We should get her a shirt that says it, too.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, we should.” He’s starting to wonder if Beth’s going to want to eat when a nurse comes to the doorway, a file in hand. 

“Beth Puckerman?” 

“Yeah, that’s us,” Puck says, standing up and walking towards her, with Finn following close behind. The nurse leads them to a scale, where she makes Puck take everything but Beth’s diaper off so they can weigh her. Beth is unimpressed with the weighing, as well as the measuring, but Puck remembers she wasn’t even nineteen inches long at the hospital, and now she is. 

“Hey, good growing there,” Puck tells her as he picks her back up and she stops screaming at the nurse. “You don’t want to be short, huh? You’ve already decided to be tall like Uncle Finn?” 

The nurse leads them to a room and asks a bunch of questions, mostly about how much Beth’s eating and how much she’s pooping, which Puck answers with “a lot.” After the nurse asks the last of her questions, she tells them the doctor will be in after a few minutes and leaves, shutting the door behind her. 

“It kinda was like a quiz,” Puck says. 

“I think you got all the answers right, though,” Finn says. 

“No one said anything about writing down how much she poops! Those are weird questions,” Puck points out. 

“Do you get extra points if she poops more?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember what she weighed when she was born either, but seven pounds and one and a half ounces sounds good, right?”

“Well, I mean, it sounds pretty small, but it’s big for a baby, I think,” Finn says. “She looks a lot fatter than she did that first day.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Puck gets out a bottle for Beth, because he’s pretty sure she’d start screaming soon if he doesn’t, and Beth gets through more than half of it before the door opens and a petite black woman with very short hair walks in. 

“Oh goodness, lunchtime already?” the woman says, addressing Beth directly. She has a faint accent Puck can’t place. “Miss Puckerman, you are a hungry little girl!”

“She’s a good eater,” Puck agrees. “She’ll be done in just a few more minutes.”

“That’s fine. There’s no rush at all,” the woman says, turning to Puck. “You’re her father, Noah?”

“Yeah.” Puck considers offering her his hand, but he doesn’t really have a free one, and he considers telling her it’s actually Puck, but who knows if that takes points off, so he doesn’t. “And this is Finn. He’s kinda Beth’s uncle.” 

“Nice to meet you, Finn,” the woman, who is obviously the doctor, says, then turns back to Puck. “I’m Leslie Brooks, the pediatrician. I’m so very sorry for your and Beth’s loss.”

Puck nods and clears his throat. “Thanks,” he finally manages, just as Beth finishes the bottle, and he lifts her to his shoulder. 

“So, Beth’s weight gain and growth looks excellent,” Dr. Brooks says. “Will you get her undressed to her diaper only, please?”

“Uhoh, Bethie-girl,” Puck says as soon as Beth burps. “It’s time to get naked again. Can you scream less this time?”

“She hates naked,” Finn says.

“That’s a very normal thing for babies to hate,” Dr. Brooks says agreeably. “Hopefully she won’t scream too much, but if she needs to, we’re used to it.”

Puck looks up from undressing her and frowns a little. “Does she really need to wear a hat so much?” he asks. “That’s about the only question I actually _remember_ right now, but Finn’s mom keeps saying she needs a hat on.” 

“We do encourage the use of hats when it’s below a certain temperature, but if Beth seems comfortable without one, and is warm enough, it’s not necessary,” Dr. Brooks says. Beth balls up her fists and screams through the brief exam, then Dr. Brooks hands her to Puck. “She’s a perfectly healthy little girl.”

“Shh, Beth,” Puck says, swaying from side to side. “Naked’s over, I promise.” He gets her dressed while she slowly stops protesting, and after she’s calmer, he turns towards Finn, one eyebrow raised questioningly. “Want a Beth?”

“Hey, Bethie Jay!” Finn says, taking Beth and holding her against his chest. “No more poking.”

“She’ll be getting some blood work today, actually,” Dr. Brooks warns. 

“No more for now, then,” Puck says. “What kind of blood work? They did her blood type at the hospital, I thought. And the swabs.”

“This is a heel stick test to check for metabolic disorders. It was one of the tests done before she was released from the hospital, but it’s standard to repeat the test if it was done before a full twenty-four hours,” Dr. Brooks explains. “We’ll also check her iron and vitamin K levels.”

“She’s gonna be mad,” Puck says, shaking his head. “I guess we should’ve saved the bottle for after all of that.”

“We have samples here. If you’ll tell the nurse what brand you’re using, she’ll see that you get some,” Dr. Brooks says. “Now, are you and Beth living alone or with other family members?”

“We’re actually living with Finn and his mom,” Puck explains. “My mom wasn’t exactly excited about having a baby around.” That’s probably an understatement, but he hasn’t told anyone, not even Finn or Carole, exactly what his mom said. 

“Ah, I see.” Dr. Brooks frowns.

“We’re totally happy to have them at our house,” Finn says. “My mom’s cool with it. They can stay forever if they need to!”

“It’s good you have the support of family around you,” Dr. Brooks tells Puck. 

“Good as family, anyway. Maybe better, since they didn’t kick us out,” Puck says, trying to sound joking. “We’ve got some friends that have been helping out, too. Uh, Finn’s mom’s boyfriend’s son and his best friend.” 

“Extended family, then,” Dr. Brooks says, smiling at Puck and scribbling a note in Beth’s chart. “Did you have any other questions before I send the nurse back?”

“Oh, yeah. Is there like a video or something?” Puck asks. “‘Cause it’s not like I’ve got a lot of time to read, and I read pretty slow. So all I’ve read in the baby book is about tummy time and the bald spot.” 

“We have a list of books, videos, and websites for new parents. I’ll make sure you get a copy of it. And yes, tummy time is good, though if you’re holding her, you don’t have to be quite so concerned with a bald spot,” Dr. Brooks says.

“What else would we do?” Puck asks. “Besides hold her, I mean? She kinda hates the carseat, and Lima’s not that big anyway.”

“Hold her, feed her, change her. It’s surprisingly simple in the first few months, and if you have questions, never hesitate to call our nurse line, anytime, day or night.”

“Oh, sh—crap, does she need, like, baby medicine or anything?” Puck asks. 

“If she falls ill, call the nurse line, and someone will help you determine what medicines she might need,” Dr. Brooks explains calmly.

“Yeah, okay.” Puck nods and this time, does offer his hand, since Finn’s holding Beth. “Thanks. When do we need to bring her back?”

“You can bring her in when she’s a month old. They’ll help you set that up when you check out.”

“Okay.” Puck nods, and as Dr. Brooks leaves after shaking Puck’s hand, he turns to Finn. “I’m going to have get a calendar or something. Now I get why adults have ‘em.” 

“Hey, you passed the baby doctor test!” Finn says. 

“Oh, yeah.” Puck sits back down. “Hey! That means they aren’t going to repossess her or anything!”

“Good job, Bee Jay,” Finn tells Beth. “You want your daddy back now?”

“You just want me to be the one holding her when they make her scream,” Puck says, shaking his head. 

“Maybe,” Finn says, handing Beth back to Puck. The nurse comes in after another couple of minutes, and Beth does scream during the heel stick and for a few minutes afterwards, while they check out and make another appointment. Even though it’s still pretty early, they go to McDonald’s and head inside to eat. A lot of the people inside the McDonald’s stare, but no one says anything to them. When they get back to Finn’s, Puck takes Beth straight into the living room, and they set up on the couch, bottles of formula and extra diapers on the flat surfaces around them. 

Puck loses track of time like he usually does in the afternoons since Beth was born, zoning out on afternoon tv and bottles and diapers and naps. He and Beth are both asleep when the doorbell rings, which wakes him up. He checks to see if Beth woke up, then looks over at Finn, who’s also sleeping, his face against the side of the couch and his mouth slightly open. 

“Finn,” Puck whispers, nudging Finn’s side. “Someone’s ringing the doorbell and it’s gonna wake Beth up.”

“I don’t want pizza,” Finn mumbles.

“Finn!” Puck says a little louder. “Get the door!” He looks at the tv and vaguely registers it can’t have been long since Beth fell asleep, so he pokes Finn’s side again. “C’mon, please?”

“I’m up! I’m up.” Finn sits up and rubs his face. “Who’s at the door?”

“I don’t know, it’s the middle of the afternoon!”

“Okay. I’ll go see, I guess,” Finn says, standing up a little unsteadily and stumbling towards the door. When he opens it, he looks startled, and Puck can see Rachel, holding a large tote bag and an expectant smile. It might be her flirty smile, too, now that Puck thinks about it. 

“Finn!” Rachel says loudly, and Puck winces, curling around Beth as much as he can. “I brought a few things over for Noah and Beth.”

“Shhh! Beth’s sleeping!” Finn says in an exaggerated stage whisper.

“Oh! Sorry!” Rachel exclaims, only a little more quietly, and then almost pushes her way in. “Hello, Noah. My dad sent over one of his casseroles.”

“Hey. Awesome,” Puck says, nodding and slowly relaxing against the couch. “I like that casserole.” 

“I also have a few baby clothes that I found downstairs, so she can hopefully have some of my luck with regards to having lots of natural talent,” Rachel continues, setting down the tote bag. “There’s a few other things in there as well.” She looks over at Finn and beams. “Finn, can we talk for a few minutes?”

“Uh.” Finn looks over a Puck and then back at Rachel. “Sure. In here’s okay?”

“Oh, I don’t want to bother Beth,” Rachel insists, reaching out and grabbing Finn’s hand. “We could go up to your room.”

“My room’s kind of a mess.”

“Out back, then?” Rachel persists, still gripping Finn’s hand in hers. 

“Sure?” Finn replies, sounding uncertain. “Puck, I’ll, uh. Be back in a minute.”

“Yeah, sure,” Puck says, nodding as Rachel leads Finn out through the back door. Once the door closes, Puck frowns and looks down at Beth, who’s miraculously stayed asleep. “What do you think, Beth?” he whispers to her. 

Puck decides to change the channel, because he’s already decided he likes the cooking shows better than the talk shows, which keeps him occupied for less than ten seconds. He cranes his neck, trying to see through the kitchen and out the back, but he can’t even make out Finn or Rachel’s shadows. After another thirty seconds or so, he mutes the tv, trying to hear them, but he can’t hear anything, either. 

Puck sits and frowns for at least five minutes, not really sure why he’s so upset, before he decides that the casserole needs to be in the refrigerator until it’s time to warm it up. Either that, or he needs to get a bowl of it and put the rest of it in the refrigerator, so he carefully finds it in the tote bag and then stands up, Beth in one arm and casserole in the other hand. It’s still warm, so he does serve himself a bowl, trying to look outside while he’s doing it. 

“Uncle Finn must be getting interrogated,” Puck whispers to Beth. He’s putting the casserole into the refrigerator when he starts to hear louder sounds from the outside. It doesn’t sound like Finn, though, just Rachel, and after a minute or so of her squawking followed by pauses where Puck can’t hear anything, the door opens and Rachel storms inside. She closes the door behind her too hard, which makes Beth jump, and Puck winces, swaying back and forth almost automatically in an effort to keep Beth from waking up. 

“You!” Rachel says, glaring at Puck, and Puck jerks back a little, frowning at her. 

“Wha—” he starts to ask, but before he can finish, Rachel starts moving again, still glaring at him, before storming all the way to the front door and leaving with another dramatic door slam. Puck cringes again at the noise and starts back into the living room with the intention of grabbing a bottle, because Beth’s eyes flew open again and after three startles, Puck’s pretty sure she’s not going to settle without a bottle. 

Puck gets his bowl of casserole set up near his right leg and a pillow under his left arm, so he can at least try to eat his casserole while it’s still warm, the cooking show on the tv. Finn stays outside for half of the cooking show, enough time for Puck and Beth to both finish eating, and then Puck hears Finn come in the back door. 

“Casserole’s in the fridge!” he calls. 

“Thanks,” Finn calls back, with a weird sound to his voice. “I’m not hungry right now. I’m just gonna go upstairs.”

“Uh.” Puck frowns in the direction of the kitchen, then watches Finn’s back as he goes upstairs. “Okay, Bethie-girl,” he whispers. “That’s really weird. Something’s wrong with Uncle Finn.” When another two cooking shows come and go without Finn reemerging, Puck rifles through the diapers until he finds Finn’s phone and his own. 

He copies Rachel’s number from Finn’s phone into his own, then calls it, listening to it ring three times before Rachel picks up. He doesn’t wait for her to finish her greeting before he starts talking. 

“What the hell’d you do to Finn?” he demands in a harsh whisper. 

“Noah?” Rachel says, her voice dropping. “Noah, I am under no obligation whatsoever to discuss this with you. The fact that you are temporarily staying at Finn’s house doesn’t mean you’re entitled to know everything about Finn’s personal relationships, and in fact, your conduct this year suggests to me that your interests in Finn are limited to situations in which you can benefit.” 

“Uh, what?” Puck says, pulling away from the phone slightly to glare at it. “Did Finn tell you I was leaving? What’s going on?”

“No, Noah, but obviously you can’t impinge on the Hudsons’ hospitality indefinitely. And my relationship with Finn is between Finn and I. I find it highly inappropriate that you’ve even called me.” 

“Yeah, well, I find it inappropriate that you kept yelling and slamming doors while my kid was sleeping,” Puck grumbles. “And I find it more inappropriate that Finn said he wasn’t hungry after he came inside, so yeah, I want to know what the fuck you did to him.” 

“He’s upset?” Rachel asks, sounding pleased. 

“You came over here to piss him off?” Puck asks incredulously. 

“No, I came to bring you the casserole and to see what Finn wanted to do this evening when he and I went out.”

Puck blinks at the tv, trying to make sense of what Rachel’s saying. He didn’t know Finn was going anywhere, much less that he was going somewhere with Rachel, and now he feels kind of pissed off, too. “Uh-huh.” 

“And then he made the preposterous claim that _he_ just had a baby and couldn’t take his girlfriend on a date!” Rachel continues. 

“You’re his girlfriend?” Puck repeats, because somehow that seems like the thing to clarify. 

“Well, no, he hasn’t actually said that,” Rachel admits, “but just before we performed at Regionals, he told me that he loved me, and he wouldn’t say that if he didn’t want me to be his girlfriend, right? Of course everything’s that happened since then has been terribly tragic, but Noah, you can’t expect Finn to put _his_ life on hold simply because you made a terrible mistake. In fact, I—”

Rachel keeps talking, but Puck pulls the phone away from his ear and then ends the call. He puts Rachel’s name with her number so that he can ignore it if she tries to call back, then turns Finn’s phone on vibrate, just to make sure. He tosses both phones to the side and sits on the couch with Beth, occasionally bending his head down to sniff the top of her head, and he lets the tv keep playing. He’s still sitting on the couch holding Beth when Carole gets home. 

“Hey,” he says quietly. “There’s a casserole in the fridge.”

“How did Beth’s doctor appointment go?” Carole asks. “And where’s Finn?”

“Dr. Brooks said she’s fine. Gaining weight. Finn’s upstairs.” He pauses. “Rachel’s the one that brought the casserole.” He isn’t even sure _why_ that’s his explanation to Carole, but it seems like as good of one as any. 

“Oh,” Carole says, giving Puck a strange look. “Is he upstairs with Rachel?”

“No, she got mad about something and slammed the door and woke Beth up, and then Finn went upstairs,” Puck says with a small shrug. “I don’t know what it was. I tried to call Rachel but she—” He cuts himself off and shrugs again. 

“Oh dear,” Carole says, making a _tsk_ ing noise. “Should I go up and talk to him, do you think?”

“Uh.” Puck shrugs for a third time. “No clue.”

“Did _you_ want to go up and talk to him?”

“I guess I can try,” Puck says, glancing at Beth. “You mind taking her?”

“Not at all!” Carole holds out her arms for Beth. “You come here, sweet little girl!”

“I’ll be back in a little bit, Beth,” Puck tells her, depositing her in Carole’s arms. “She ate about an hour or so ago,” he says to Carole, then heads up the stairs towards Finn’s room. He has a weird feeling, like for a minute Carole was talking to him as another parent, not as Finn’s best friend, and that’s one of the weirdest things in a week full of new things. Finn’s door is closed, and Puck knocks twice on it before opening it and going in anyway. Finn’s just sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, and his hair looks like he’s been running his hands through his hair repeatedly. 

“Hey,” Puck says, dropping down on the bed next to Finn after he closes the door. “You gonna be more talkative than her?”

“Huh?” Finn asks, glancing up at Puck. “Where’s Beth?”

“Your mom’s got her,” Puck says. “What’s going on?”

“I think I messed up.”

“Okay,” Puck says slowly. “How’d you mess up?” Maybe Puck needs to be figuring out if Finn’s going to apologize to Rachel or whatever, in which case they don’t have a lot of time before Rachel gets done with Shabbat services.

“I told Rachel I love her,” Finn says, putting his head in his hands again. “And then I _forgot_ I told her I love her.”

Puck nods. “So which part is the messed up part?”

“She’s _really_ pissed. I told her I didn’t know what I was feeling right now, ‘cause I’ve got other stuff going on, and everything’s really complicated, and she was so pissed at me, Puck,” Finn says, shaking his head in his hands. 

“Yeah, that part I figured out when she slammed two different doors,” Puck says wryly. “Are you trying to figure out how to get her un-pissed at you, or what?”

“No. Maybe.” Finn shakes his head again. “I don’t know. It’s just more than I thought I had going on right now. I mean, I _told_ her we had a new baby and everything, but she was still so pissed.”

“Huh.” Puck guesses that Finn not putting Beth off as solely Puck’s responsibility is why Rachel was the way she was to Puck on the phone. “I guess if you want her to be un-pissed and date her or whatever, you’ve gotta do it now. Otherwise you can probably let it go for awhile.” Puck shrugs and lies back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “She’s kinda mean when she’s pissed.” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “I don’t know, Puck. Everything’s different now. I know it hasn’t even been a week, but everything’s different.”

“Yeah. It is,” Puck agrees, because everything’s so different that he can’t even figure out where he’d start, if he had to make a list. He tries to lighten the mood, at least, shaking his head. “For starters, your room smells pretty weird.”

“Yeah. It kind of smells like gym socks and baby puke,” Finn says. 

“I was going to say sweat, baby wipes, and spoiled milk, but close enough,” Puck says, nodding. “You want me to bring your phone, or you want to go eat casserole?”

“I’m not sure how hungry I am, but I think I’m sure I don’t want to talk to Rachel right now,” Finn says. “I don’t know. It’s weird, but it’s like—” He cuts himself off and shakes his head. 

“Yeah,” Puck says, even though he’s not really sure what Finn’s saying. “C’mon. Let’s go eat some casserole and maybe we should go rent a movie instead of watching bad Friday night tv.”

“That sounds good,” Finn says, letting his hands drop away from his head finally and giving Puck a small, crooked smile. “Do we need to get G-rated because of Bethie Jay?”

“Nah, I think she can sleep through PG-13,” Puck jokes as he rolls to his side and then stands up. “Oh, shit.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Finn asks.

“I was gonna say I draw the line at R, but dude. _I_ can’t legally rent R.”

Finn sort of chokes on a laugh, then really does laugh out loud. “Sorry. That’s _funny_!”

“It’s kinda weird, too,” Puck protests, then gives in and starts laughing, too. “We’re just not going to mention that to anyone else, though,” he says as they open the door and head down the stairs. 

“I won’t tell anybody,” Finn agrees. 

They don’t talk about Rachel again the rest of the evening, even if Puck’s brain keeps going back to Rachel’s comment. The casserole’s just as good as Puck remembered, at least, and then they do rent a couple of movies. Puck makes it through one and a half before he falls asleep, and when Carole wakes him up, his head’s over on Finn’s shoulder. 

Beth doesn’t get too mad about changing into her pajamas and then takes her pacifier when they lie down, which Puck knows is better than some nights, and he yawns as Finn flips out the lamp. 

“Not going to make it through a day at school without a nap,” Puck admits. 

“You can nap at lunch. Or glee club.”

Puck snorts. “I’d rather nap in math. I’m usually doing that anyway.”

“Yeah, but you’ve gotta make good grades now,” Finn says. “You’re a dad.”

“I can _do_ the math,” Puck half-heartedly protests, but Finn’s probably right, and he groans. “Fine.”

“Good,” Finn says. 

Puck snorts, not quite laughing, and a few minutes pass in the dark, Beth’s pacifier-sucking getting slower and slower. Finn shifts on the bed, probably rolling onto his side, and lets out a long sigh.

“I’m sorry about this afternoon,” Finn says quietly into the dark. 

“Uh, which part?” Puck asks after a moment. “‘Cause I was mostly pissed at Rachel.”

“I feel like I turn everything into a bigger mess than it already is, is all.”

“Huh.” Puck sighs, because he knows what Finn means, but after Rachel’s comment, he can’t help but tense a little. “Just keep her from slamming more doors while Beth’s asleep?” he offers, trying to keep his voice steady. 

“I’m sorry,” Finn says, ever more sheepishly.

“Yeah. Maybe Beth and I’ll clear out if she’s coming over,” Puck says.

“No, don’t do that. I don’t want that,” Finn insists. “It’s just, I know what the smart thing to do would’ve been. I should’ve just said yeah, I love her, and then figured it all out later, instead of making her feel all jerked around. That’s probably a really crappy thing to do to somebody.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Puck can’t help asking, watching Beth stop sucking on her pacifier altogether.

“Didn’t feel right. The stuff with Rachel’s all twisted up and mixed up with the stuff with Quinn, and it doesn’t feel the same now,” Finn says. 

“Yeah,” Puck whispers, because nothing feels like it did, as far as he can tell. He realizes he told the doctor that his closest friends after Finn were Kurt and Mercedes, and he knows that would never have happened the previous Friday. “Everything’s different,” he agrees, a little more loudly. 

“And, like, I’m not stupid, okay? I _know_ Beth’s not my baby...” Finn sounds like he’s answering someone who isn’t there, or maybe repeating something someone told to him. 

“Hey, _I_ know you’re not stupid,” Puck says. “Look, I know what you said to the doctor and what you’ve told me, but don’t… do this out of some kind of weird obligation or guilt, okay?”

“It’s not like that. That’s not what it is,” Finn says firmly. 

“Okay.” Puck shrugs a little. “Just… Rachel seemed to think I should leave soon or something. I wanted to make sure.”

“Well, Rachel’s wrong.” Finn sighs quietly and shifts, and Puck can hear him fluffing up his pillow before letting his head drop onto it again. “It’s just, you know. Quinn and the pregnancy. That was all the shit that went wrong between you and me, and none of that’s there anymore. There’s just Beth, and she’s this really good thing that came out of that, and it just makes it feel different. All of it.”

“Yeah.” Puck reaches out and puts his finger in Beth’s hand, concentrating on her fingers curling around it. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s one of those things that it needs to just be you and me and Beth, you know?” The idea of Finn dating someone makes Puck want to say no, because he’s pretty sure they’d all be like Rachel, telling him to leave Beth alone, or at least that’s what Puck figures Rachel said. “Beth’s got so few of us already.”

“When I didn’t know she wasn’t mine, I loved her,” Finn says, “and now it doesn’t matter that she’s not mine. She’s still this, I don’t know. This really cool little person that I still get to have in my life. I don’t want to not have that. I don’t want to not have her here.” He feels around in the dark, and Puck can see Finn’s hand in the shadows before he feels it bump into his own hand around Beth’s. 

“Yeah, she is pretty awesome,” Puck says, grinning a little. Finn’s hand stays on top of Puck’s, and Puck doesn’t move his own hand at all. “And, I mean, you know, my dad was shit.” He pauses, not even sure what he’s trying to say. “So you’re probably right. About it not mattering.”

A few minutes pass without Finn responding, and Puck thinks he must have fallen asleep, but then he hears Finn quietly say, “I don’t want to not have you here, either.”

Puck isn’t sure what to say, so he just lies there, nodding a little, his eyes still on Finn’s hand on top of his on top of Beth’s. Eventually he falls asleep, because he wakes up with a start the first time Beth wakes for the night. 

The weekend is mostly uneventful, especially after Friday, but on Sunday night they have to make an effort not to fall asleep in front of the tv, and Puck wakes up two extra times when Beth and Finn are solidly asleep overnight. When he wakes up fifteen minutes before the alarm, he doesn’t even try to go back to sleep. He does fiddle with the baby carrier sling thing that was in the bags from Target, which is how he figures he can carry Beth around school without too much trouble. Then he goes to take a shower, because he almost constantly smells like spit up, so he probably does again. 

When he gets done with the shower, Beth is lying on the bed starting to wake up, and Puck laughs. “Yeah, you ready for today, Bethie-girl?”

“She wants to go to English class, she told me,” Finn says. “She said ‘Uncle Finn, I wanna read the books!’”

“Eat the books, more like,” Puck says, digging through her clothes and tossing some on the bed. “It’ll be an adventure, Beth.” He knows Carole doesn’t think them taking Beth to school is the best plan, but Puck figures it’ll get them through the rest of sophomore year, at least. Beth tolerates getting dressed, gulps down her bottle, and complains throughout the entire ride. Puck puts her in the sling thing before he even gets out of the car, then puts his letter jacket on, his backpack slung over the opposite shoulder. Most of the stuff in it is diapers and formula and extra clothes for Beth, plus an extra t-shirt for Puck, but maybe his teachers will think he’s being extra-studious. 

“I’ll meet you after second period,” Puck says to Finn. “My third period class always has a pop quiz on Mondays.”

Finn leans over and peers at Beth in the sling. “Are you sure she’s okay in there? She’s not too warm or something?”

“Nah, she likes it,” Puck says. “Better than that nasty carseat, right, Bethie-girl?”

“And you’re sure you don’t need me to, like, sit in your classes with you or something?”

“ _You_ have to go to class too, if you’re making me go,” Puck says. 

“Noah Puckerman!” Mercedes’ voice suddenly comes from behind Puck. “Where did you put that baby?”

“And what is she wearing?” Kurt adds. 

“Uh, right here?” Puck says, turning around. “And some pink thing with ladybugs.”

“And little ladybug socks, with the whole foot part that’s a ladybug,” Finn says.

“I... don’t know what to say to you two,” Mercedes says, shaking her head. “Ladybugs.”

“Did the ladybug socks go with something else?” Puck asks. “‘Cause I was pretty sure we weren’t supposed to mix insect types or something.” 

“No, no, that’s correct,” Kurt assures him. “Oh, good! You like the sling!”

“Beth likes it a _lot_ better than the carseat,” Puck says with a grimace.

“Bee Jay _hates_ the carseat,” Finn says.

“Yeah, the carseat offends her.” Puck nods as he starts walking towards the school again. “But she’s happy in here, so we should be fine.”

“You’re taking her to all your classes with you?” Kurt asks. 

"Are you even allowed to bring a baby to school?" Mercedes asks.

“I gotta finish the year, right?” Puck says with a shrug. “And she’s only a week old.” He hadn’t paid too much attention to Carole when she mentioned subsidized daycares after the food stamps and the formula, because the daycare his little sister had gone to was pretty crappy, but he's still pretty sure they don’t take one week old babies at daycares. 

"She's a really good baby," Finn says. "Probably nobody'll even notice."

“Only when she poops,” Puck agrees. 

“I think you underestimate the appeal of a baby,” Kurt says as they reach the entrance to the school.

"If you get in any trouble and need help with her, send me a text," Mercedes orders. She looks down at Beth and touches her cheek. "Be a good girl for your daddy, Beth."

“Yeah, she is,” Puck says, grinning at Beth and then Mercedes. Kurt offers his arm to Mercedes and starts to lead her down the hall, then stops after about ten feet.

“Or me,” he says over his shoulder. “Though I’ll be most helpful with her attire.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, okay.” 

"You know you're not texting them, right?" Finn asks. "'Cause if you need help, you're supposed to get _me_."

“I know,” Puck says, still grinning. “But I guess you could text ‘em if Beth starts screaming or something while I have my quiz.” 

"Maybe," Finn concedes. The bell for first period rings, and Finn sighs. "Guess I need to go to class. Bye, Bee Jay!"

“Tell Uncle Finn bye,” Puck says to Beth, then heads in the opposite direction, towards his own first period class. He makes it halfway there without anyone even giving him any odd looks, which is kind of nice after the doctor’s office and the McDonald’s on Friday.

The niceness only last until Jacob ben Israel comes out of the bathrooms and starts barreling towards Puck, tape recorder already out.

"Puck! Any comment you'd like to make about Quinn Fabray for the memorial section of my blog?" Jacob asks, waving the microphone in Puck's face. "Anything you'd like to add to the rumors that—what the hell? Is that a _baby_?"

Puck clenches his jaw and tries to remind himself that he can’t really punch Jacob ben Israel, no matter how much the guy deserves it, especially not with Beth right there, her tiny eyes staring up at him. “Get out of my face,” he says flatly.

"Is that Quinn Fabray's baby?" Jacob demands, still trying to get the recorder up near Puck's face. "So it's true that you kept it!"

“I said to get out of my face,” Puck says, trying to get past him. “No freaking comment.”

“Puck?” Mr. Schue says suddenly from behind him. “Is there some kind of problem?”

“I’m just trying to get to class,” Puck says as he keeps glaring at ben Israel.

"He has an infant on campus!" ben Israel shrieks. "A human infant!"

“Oh!” Mr. Schue comes up beside Puck and looks down, smiling at Beth. “She’s already grown, hasn’t she?”

“Yeah, the doctor says she’s doing good and everything,” Puck says, nodding at Mr. Schue and letting him put his hand on Puck’s shoulder, steering them past Jacob ben Israel. 

"Mr. Schuester!" Jacob shouts after them. "Mr. Schuester! Does this mean you approve of out-of-wedlock teen pregnancy?"

Puck tenses, but Mr. Schue pats him on the shoulder and keeps them moving down the hall. “Go to class, Jacob!” Mr. Schue says over his own shoulder. “The bell’s going to ring soon!” 

The bell rings just a few seconds later, making Beth jump, but it does make Jacob ben Israel go away, and Mr. Schue walks with Puck the rest of the way to his first period class, gently pushing him towards the desks while he goes to talk to Puck’s teacher very briefly. Puck shrugs and sits down sideways in a desk in the very back row, hoping no one else tries to interrogate him before he meets up with Finn again. 

Puck mostly keeps his head down, figuratively and actually, and Beth eats near the beginning of second period, so Puck only has to go a few hallways over to find Finn before third period. “Hey,” he says, coming up beside Finn. 

"Hey!" Finn replies. "How's our girl?"

“I think she likes school more than I do,” Puck says, grinning as he leans against the wall and starts taking her out of the sling. 

"Hey, Bee Jay!" Finn coos at Beth. "Hey, Beej! Did you miss me? I bet you did."

“Yeah, I bet so,” Puck agrees. “Jewfro tried to freaking interview me.”

"We're gonna break his kneecaps with a hammer, aren't we, Beej?" Finn says, still baby-talking to Beth.

“Like a true Puckerman,” Puck says, laughing. He leans forward and smells the top of Beth’s head before kissing it. “Have fun, Bethie-girl. Dad’s going to take a quiz, which is _not_ fun.”

"We'll be fine," Finn promises. "Good luck!"

“Yeah, I probably need it,” Puck admits wryly before he heads into his classroom. He gets more stares in that class even without Beth there, which is weird, but he figures Jacob ben Israel’s probably had a chance to post some kind of bullshit story. 

The quiz takes up half the class period, and then Puck tries to take notes, remembering what Finn said about how he needed to get good grades now, but he’s tired, and he spends more time yawning or wondering what Finn and Beth are doing. When the bell finally rings, he heads for glee club, hoping that they’re not doing some kind of intensive dancing number or anything. It doesn’t seem like they should be, since Regionals is over. He gathered from Facebook that they thought it was over and then got a reprieve or something, so Puck just goes there anyway. He slumps into the closest seat, trying not to close his eyes. 

"Look who it is!" Finn announces as he comes into the classroom.

“Hey, Bethie-girl,” Puck says, grinning at her. “You have fun with Uncle Finn?”

"She pooped and grossed out my history class," Finn declares proudly. "I think she's hungry now, though."

“Good job, Beth,” Puck tells her, digging through his backpack for one of her bottles. “You want Uncle Finn to feed you, huh? I bet he doesn’t smell like spit up yet today.”

"Not yet," Finn agrees, "but the day's not over yet."

“Nope.” Puck hands Finn the bottle he finds, then leans back in his chair again. “Please tell me we’re not dancing.”

"I don't think anybody wants to dance," Finn says. He starts to feed Beth, sitting in the chair next to Puck and leaning towards him a little, not seeming aware he's doing it.

Most of the rest of the club comes in, followed by Rachel, who breezes in chattering about preparing for next year’s Sectionals until she stops absolutely still in the middle of the floor, staring at Finn. Puck watches Rachel’s jaw drop, and then her face turns red as she stalks towards Finn. 

“Finn Hudson!”

"Not so loud. It freaks her out," Finn says, making little shushing sounds at Beth. "She's eating."

“ _Why_ are you feeding her?” Rachel demands. “Why is she even here?” 

"Uh. She's hungry," Finn says.

"How's that sweet baby doing?" Mercedes asks in loud voice, stepping between Rachel and Finn. "Did she get bigger since first period, Puck?"

“Well, she learned some grammar, anyway,” Puck says. “And survived her first encounter with Jewfro.”

“I don’t understand!” Rachel says, her voice getting louder again. “Noah, you cannot bring a baby to school!”

“Where is she supposed to be?” Puck asks, glaring at Rachel. “Where, exactly, would you tell me to have my—what was it? Terrible mistake? Yeah. Where should my terrible mistake be?”

Finn looks up from Beth and her bottle, the color draining from his face. "You didn't call her that. Tell me you didn't call her that."

“I—I didn’t mean _her_ of course. I meant that the entire situation, of course, was just all a terrible mistake, and it’s not fair of Puck to bring you into his problems.”

Finn's eyebrows scrunch together and his eyes narrow, but he voice stays calm. "He doesn't have any problems. He and Beth are doing great. I love having them at my house."

“And I don’t understand why he’s even _at_ your house,” Rachel continues, almost like Finn didn’t speak. “If he’s going to insist on this disastrous course, he should really be with his own family.” She smiles at Puck. “I’m sure you understand, Noah, I’m only looking out for Finn’s best interests.”

“My mom kicked me and Beth out,” Puck says flatly. “That’s why.”

"And me and my mom wanted them to stay with us," Finn says, his volume increasing. "That's why, too. We want Puck and Beth with us. It's great to have them."

Rachel shakes her head in Finn’s direction and sidesteps Mercedes, patting Finn’s shoulder and leaning in to whisper to him. She’s not particularly quiet, though, and Puck’s right next to Finn, so he hears everything she says. “Finn, I just don’t want you to be hurt when both of you remember that Beth is not your baby. She’s Puck’s baby, and if he’s going to keep her, he should be taking care of her, not letting you continue with your fantasies.”

Finn frowns at Rachel, almost scowling. "See, you're wrong. She's my baby, too, and my mom's, because we love her, and she makes us happy. It's okay that she's not related to me. I love her anyway."

Rachel sighs very dramatically. “Just remember that I’ll be here for you when you need my emotional support, Finn.”

"Yeah," Finn says, and it really does sound dismissive. 

Before Rachel can respond, Mr. Schue comes into the room, clapping his hands in front of him. “Sit down, everybody,” he says, and he looks over at Puck, Finn, and Beth briefly with a small smile. He doesn't seem at all surprised to see Finn holding Beth, which means he either knows Puck and Beth are staying with Finn, or he saw Finn with Beth earlier. “I just had a brief conversation with Principal Figgins.” 

“He isn’t re-re-considering our status at the school, is he?” Rachel asks, sounding panicked. 

“No, no, nothing like that,” Mr. Schue says, shaking his head at her. “There’s going to be an all-school memorial, and he’d like us to perform.” 

Puck grimaces, and he’s glad he’s in the front row and kind of near the end, so no one can check his reaction without being really obvious. He’s sure some of them are trying anyway, but he can’t actually see it, so he’ll ignore it. 

“Does anyone have any suggestions?” Mr. Schue asks, his voice almost gentle. 

“I think we should do Bette Midler’s modern classic, ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’,” Rachel pipes up, and Puck doesn’t bother trying to hide that he’s rolling his eyes. 

“Any other suggestions?” Mr. Schue says after nodding once in Rachel’s direction. 

“Mr. Schue? What about ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’?” Mercedes asks. “It’s sad, but it’s hopeful at the same time.”

“I think that’s a lovely choice,” Kurt says, and Puck starts to wonder what kind of glares and looks are getting tossed around behind him. Puck has to agree that it’s definitely better than ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’, but part of that might be that he knows his mom likes Bette Midler. 

“And Quinn liked that song,” Finn says quietly.

“Let’s tentatively do that, then,” Mr. Schue says. “Does anyone have anything else for us today?”

“No,” Mercedes says, a little too loudly. “That’s good, Mr. Schue.”

Puck does turn around at that, and it looks like Mercedes and Kurt are almost on the verge of physically restraining Rachel from getting out of her seat. Puck snorts as he faces Mr. Schue again. Probably she had some kind of scorned-lover song for him, or maybe a lovesick one. 

“In that case, I think we’re done for today,” Mr. Schue says, turning to talk quietly to the piano playing guy. 

“Ready for your Bethie back?” Finn asks Puck.

“Did you spit up on Uncle Finn?” Puck says to Beth as he takes her from Finn. “That’s important.” He lifts Beth up a little and then makes a face at her. “Fresh diaper time, huh?”

“Oops. I guess I forgot to say something about the diaper,” Finn says. 

“Uh-huh.” Puck shakes his head. “Uncle Finn thinks he’s clever, Bethie-girl.” He starts digging in his backpack again, looking around the room and frowning. McKinley definitely wasn’t made for having a baby around, at least in terms of places to put a baby to change her. “Joke might be on him, though, when we put the changing pad thing on his lap.”

“I’ll take one for the team, I guess,” Finn says, sighing dramatically.

“See, he’s a good sport,” Puck tells Beth. 

“You’re so good with her,” Tina says, sounding surprised. 

“Yeah, he’s got baby magic,” Finn says. 

“She’s a pretty easy baby,” Puck points out. “Except for the carseat, she doesn’t get too mad at us.”

Rachel makes a muffled huffing noise behind him, but Puck doesn’t know exactly why she’s huffing, so he finishes changing Beth’s diaper and scoops her back up. “I still don’t think she should be here,” Rachel mutters loudly. 

“Lucky for us, nobody cares what you think about it,” Mercedes says.

“I’m sure Noah’s teachers will have something to say about it!” Rachel retorts. 

“Guess it’s lucky you aren’t a teacher, then,” Puck says, turning to stare at her. “Guess it’s lucky for Beth you aren’t around her very much, in fact.” He keeps glaring at Rachel while she glares back, and Puck doesn’t know how the world became him against Rachel, but it’s really starting to feel that way. 

“You want to take her outside a little while before the bell?” Finn asks. “I looked in that baby book, and it said they turn yellow sometimes and need sunshine.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Puck says, nodding and picking up his backpack before finally breaking his glare at Rachel. “We can eat out there, too.” 

“That’ll be fun,” Finn says. “Don’t you think so, Bee Jay?” He takes Beth’s hand and continues in his high-pitched Beth voice, “Yes, I love to eat outside!”

“Classy girl,” Puck jokes, ignoring the weird looks he, Beth, and Finn are getting. “She’s gonna want entertainment while she eats, next.”

The rest of the day is more or less like the morning, with none of Puck’s teachers saying anything about Beth’s presence. After Puck spots Mr. Schue talking with more than one of his teachers, though, Puck starts to wonder how much of it is Mr. Schue smoothing things out, which is more awesome than Puck really expected. Puck and Finn attempt their homework, which is another new thing for Puck, and they go to bed way earlier than Puck wants to admit. 

It’s how the rest of the week goes, though, school and Beth and being more tired than Puck actually thought was possible. It’s a different kind of tired, not from staying up too late one day and needing to sleep in or being sleepy if he has to get up. It’s a constant little itch, never feeling quite rested, and Puck finds himself almost fantasizing about the summer break. 

On Friday, the routine is interrupted by the assembly-memorial for Quinn, which Puck has been dreading all week anyway. It’s worse because it cuts into lunch a little, which is the only consistent time he and Finn can get a few minutes’ rest. Puck can’t say exactly why things are the way they are, but he knows he doesn’t want anyone at school holding her, not even most of the glee club. Finn, of course, and he’s okay with Mercedes and even Kurt, but the rest of them he tells no if they ask. 

New Directions assembles in the hallway, Beth hanging out in her sling, and Rachel side-eyes Puck. “Are you sure that’s appropriate, Noah?” she says in the same biting tone she’s been using all week around him. 

This time, though, she doesn’t look around before she says anything, and Puck has to hide his grin when it’s Mr. Schue that responds. Puck’s not sure what kind of Wheaties Mr. Schue’s been eating, but he appreciates the outcome. 

“You’re right, Rachel,” Mr. Schue says calmly. “Finn’ll have to hold Beth, if Puck agrees to play his guitar like I was about to ask.”

Puck doesn’t really want to play, but it seems like a small thing to do, and he nods at Mr. Schue. It’ll help keep him occupied, if nothing else, and give him an excuse not to look at the rest of the school, which might be Mr. Schue’s reasoning, now that Puck thinks about it. 

“You got her?” Puck says quietly to Finn as he pulls Beth from the sling. “Gonna have to get you one of these.” 

“I can’t just wear yours?” Finn asks.

“You’re like two carrier-sizes bigger than I am,” Puck says with a laugh. “You’d barely get it over your head.”

“I could _try_.”

“Just ask Kurt and Mercedes where they found this one,” Puck says, shaking his head. Finn pouts, which makes Puck laugh again. “It can be a goal for the weekend,” he tells Finn quietly. “We accomplish one thing and we’re good.”

“Fine. Maybe mine can be blue,” Finn says.

“Sure,” Puck agrees with a nod, and then Mr. Schue’s leading them into the gym to perform. The silence is uncomfortable, but it doesn’t get any better when people talk, and Puck’s extremely grateful to Mr. Schue for giving him something to do with his hands while they sing. He knows he’s probably going to cry again, even though he can’t really explain what he feels to anyone. By the time they finish, though, he is, and he bumps Finn’s shoulder as they’re sitting down. 

“Let’s get out of here after this is over,” he mutters.

“Yeah,” Finn says. “We can try to sneak out the back if you want to. I could poke Beth and make her cry.”

“Then everyone’d really stare,” Puck says, shaking his head. “It’s probably almost over, right?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure how much else anybody could say.”

Somehow, Figgins manages to draw everything out for another ten minutes, but when that’s over, Puck hightails it out of the gym with Finn and Beth behind him. “Let’s be really wild and go take a nap,” Puck suggests.

“We’re old people, Puck,” Finn says. “We want to eat dinner at four.”

“No, I don’t even want to be awake at four,” Puck says. “Now I know why I used to skip classes and homework and shit, too. That takes _effort_.”

“Beth had a great week, though. Didn’t you, Beej?” Finn says. 

“Yeah, she probably learned more about grammar than I did,” Puck says. They get their backpacks from their lockers, then head to the parking lot, not really trying to hide that they’re leaving. “She pays more attention to Schue in Spanish than I ever did before, too.”

“Maybe she’ll be bilingual. That would be cool.”

“Yeah. What’s three languages? I should teach her Hebrew, too, I guess.” No one had ever mentioned doing anything for Beth, not from Puck’s Nana or the Berrys or anyone else, but Puck figures that’s probably even more of a reason to teach Beth Hebrew, just to show them. 

“Will she get those Jewish parties?” Finn asks. 

"Kinda missed the eight day old thing, but yeah, otherwise." Puck shrugs and then winces as they get to the car. "Screaming time."

“We need to figure out a car trick or something,” Finn says. 

“Or only go places we can walk,” Puck says with a snort. “C’mon, Bethie-girl. Don’t cry too much, okay? We have all weekend we don’t really have to ride in the car.” Puck takes her from Finn and straps her in the carseat before climbing in beside her. “Now I know why people have those dorky signs. They want people to understand why they’re speeding.”

“Sorry, officer, but I had to stop the screaming!” Finn says.

Puck laughs. “Exactly.” Beth does scream most of the way home, stopping as soon as Puck removes her from the seat and looking at him almost like she wasn’t screaming half a minute before. “Oh, you’re gonna be trouble, aren’t you, Beth?”

“Yeah, just like you,” Finn says, laughing after he says it. 

“Tell Uncle Finn we’re not exactly trouble,” Puck says to Beth. “We’re just… stubborn?”

“Stubborn _trouble_.”

“Stop, you’ll make Beth sad,” Puck protests as they head inside, and he holds Beth up. “See, she’s pouting.”

“Oh no, Beej! You’re so sad!” Finn says.

“Good job, Beth,” Puck stage-whispers to her. “And oh thank all the various gods of everyone,” he adds as he slumps onto the couch with Beth. “Naptime!”

“For everybody!” Finn says.

“Say ‘yay naps’, Beth,” Puck tells her, already leaning his head back. “Or, no. If I can make myself move, we’ll sleep on the bed.”

Finn sits down next to Puck. “Nah. Moving’s for people without babies,” he says. 

Puck thinks about that for a minute, then nods. “Yeah, okay, good point.” He repositions Beth, the hand not near Finn on her back, and then closes his eyes. 

They must sleep for a long time, because the next thing Puck knows, someone’s moving Beth, Beth’s making little noises, and Puck opens his eyes to see Carole trying to take Beth despite one of Finn’s hands and one of Puck’s hands both on her back. 

“Oh. Hi,” Puck says, moving his hand and rubbing his eyes. 

“She was awake,” Carole says apologetically. “She looked like she wanted picked up.”

“Mom, don’t take our baby,” Finn mumbles, still sounding mostly asleep.

Carole laughs and continues picking up Beth. “She’s hungry and smells like she needs a change. I’ll bring her back!”

“‘Kay,” Finn says, his breathing becoming slow and heavy again. 

“You two must be very tired,” Carole notes, bringing Beth up to her shoulder. “I’ll bring her back in a little while.”

“Actually going to class takes a lot of effort,” Puck complains, trying to keep his eyes open. “And getting up with her.”

“Sleep a little longer. Beth and I will fix some dinner and then wake you boys up. How’s that sound?” 

Puck nods, wondering why his chest still feels like Beth is on it, and then realizes Finn’s hand slid off Beth and onto Puck’s chest. He waits until Carole turns to look and see it spread out, and then he starts to shrug before realizing it would make his head move off Finn’s shoulder, plus Finn’s head is on top of Puck’s head. They’re kind of like Jenga, which means he probably shouldn’t move at all, including Finn’s hand, so he closes his eyes. It’s like a miniature blanket or something, anyway. It’s probably a little weird, but it’s a good weird, and everything else in Puck’s life is pretty weird, so he’ll take the good parts wherever and however he gets them. 

He falls back asleep fast, because he wakes up feeling like no time has passed, even though now he can smell meatloaf cooking. He starts to move his head before realizing Finn’s head is still there, so he just whispers “Finn?”

“Is it my turn?” Finn mumbles, snuffling against the top of Puck’s head. 

“Dinner,” Puck says, still whispering, even though he’s not sure why. Finn’s hand is moving in a slow circle, like he thinks Puck’s chest is Beth’s back. 

“Is it dinner?” Finn asks, lifting his head from where it’s resting on top of Puck’s, and abruptly stopping the circular motion on Puck’s chest. “Oh. Where’s Beth?” 

“Meatloaf, from the smell, and your mom’s got her. Beth’s less tired than us, I guess.”

“Cool,” Finn says, sounding a little uncertain.

“Yeah, we need to start her on classes to tire her out,” Puck declares, lifting his head from Finn’s shoulder slowly and then stretching. “American history, maybe.”

“Yeah, that’s uh.” Finn stands abruptly, adding, “Be right back!” before bolting out of the room.

“Okay…” Puck says, his voice trailing off. “That was weird,” he mutters to himself, standing up and going into the kitchen, where Carole is standing with Beth. “Hey, Bethie-girl,” he says. “You were less tired than us, huh?”

“Wide awake,” Carole says. “She’s had a bottle, two diapers, and just helped me make a salad to go with the meatloaf.”

“You’re gonna eat your veggies, huh?” Puck says. “Go you. Spinach’ll make you like Popeye.” Puck opens the refrigerator and gets out a pop, then sits down. “You want to come see me?”

“Here you go,” Carole says, handing him Beth. “If she tells you I gave her a cup of coffee, she’s lying. She just got mad I wouldn’t share.”

“You have to be at least two for coffee,” Puck tells Beth. “Maybe even three.”

“I told her that. She wasn’t buying it. She did settle for a bottle, at least.” Carole takes down a stack of plates and sets them on the table. “Where’s Finn?”

“Uh, bathroom,” Puck answers, even though he’s not totally sure that’s where Finn went. Friday evening just seems to be the time Finn disappears for a bit, Puck guesses. “So why don’t they have different flavors for baby formula? Seems like ‘plain’ would get boring. They could do like, carrot and strawberry and stuff.”

“Well, I’ve never stopped to think about that,” Carole says, then shouts, “Finn! Come set the table!”

After a few seconds, Finn comes thundering down the stairs, looking flushed and jittery. “Sorry! Sorry, I’ll just, uh, get that table set.” He takes the plates and starts placing them around the table without really looking at Puck.

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t elephants,” Puck tells Beth. “Just Uncle Finn.”

“Sorry, Beej,” Finn says.

“She’ll forgive you as soon as she forgets in about five seconds,” Puck says jokingly. None of them really talk as Carole gets the food out and everyone starts eating, Beth watching all of them. Puck and Finn are each on their second helpings when Carole sets her fork down.

“I was thinking about the long term,” she announces. “Puck and Beth might like to have a little more space, so we should start thinking about how we can convert the dining room back into a bedroom again.”

“My room’s got plenty of space,” Finn says. “We just need something for Beth’s stuff, that’s all!”

“Maybe a closet organizer or something,” Puck suggests. “I bet Kurt’d help us. I mean, if Beth and I are down here, no one can watch tv or anything after she’s in bed.”

“And it’d be harder for me to get up at night and help Puck with her,” Finn says. 

“I’m not planning on doing anything tomorrow,” Carole says. “I’m just taking into consideration that we now have four people in a house set up for two. Nobody has much elbow room.”

Puck looks at Finn and then Carole, frowning. “I don’t want anyone going to any trouble for us,” he says slowly. 

“I mean, maybe when Beth’s bigger and needs _her_ own room,” Finn says.

“Finn, are you really proposing that you, Puck, and Beth are all going to live in your bedroom together for the next few years?” Carole asks, raising her eyebrows and looking more amused than upset.

“Well...” Finn looks at Puck, then back at Carole, then back at Puck again before answering. “Yeah?”

“How about this?” Carole offers. “We’ll give it a few more weeks, then reevaluate based on everyone’s health and grades. If I notice any negative impact on anyone, we’ll reconsider the bedroom situation again. Fair?”

“Don’t let your grades slide, Beth,” Puck tells her sternly. 

“It’ll be fine, Mom. You’ll see,” Finn says. “Everything’s going to be just fine, and we’ll all do great, and Beth’ll be happy and everything’ll be good.”

“Like I said, we can reevaluate as needed,” Carole says.

No one says anything for a few moments, then Beth squeaks, and Puck grins. “I’m with Beth. For tonight, is there any dessert?”


	4. Growth Spurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School's out for the summer, which gives them even more opportunities to make everything in their schedule revolve around Beth.

The funny thing about babies is that the days feel like they last forever, but the weeks actually go by incredibly fast. The defining feature of the last six weeks has been Puck and Rachel’s weird stand-off, punctuated by a lot of bottles and lack of sleep. The avalanche of casseroles Puck had talked about never seemed to happen, but Mr. Berry—Finn isn’t sure _which_ of the Misters Berry—has sent one once a week, usually toted over by an increasingly irritated Rachel, who glares at Puck, looks pitifully at Finn, but does at least start smiling at Beth a little bit.

Puck looks more and more tired every day, because on top of waking up with Beth, which at least Finn can help him with, he’s working really hard to get caught up with his school stuff. They even study, though usually that ends when one or both of them falls asleep and pitches forward onto their books. Once they figure out that Puck actually is pretty good at math, and Finn isn’t that bad at history, they can at least figure out some balance of what to study and when, with Puck helping Finn with his math homework and studying, and Finn giving Puck help on his history papers. Carole proofreads everything for them before they turn it in, because, as she puts it, “Babies make it hard to notice punctuation.”

In the middle of working on proofs, which is currently Finn’s least favorite thing to study, Finn falls over onto his back on the bed. “I think Beth needs to go outside and get some vitamin D,” he says to Puck. “I think she’s gonna get rackets.”

“Rickets, and I hope you mean actual vitamin D,” Puck says, nudging Finn’s leg. “C’mon, you only have two more.”

“I read about it on some baby website. It has a doctor with a name like a store.”

“Doctor Walmart?” Puck jokes. 

“No. Not Doctor Target, either,” Finn says. “How about just _one_ more proof, and then we’ll take Beej outside?”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck says, folding pretty easily. “We’re already getting weird looks from our teachers as it is.”

“That’s because we’re great students and great parents,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, that’s the part that seems to freak ’em out.” Puck nudges Finn’s leg again. “You’ve only got two more steps.”

“Ok, is this step ‘because Puck says that’s what it’s supposed to be?’ ”

“Yeah it’s not a game show. That’d be more fun, though.” Puck stares at the wall for a few seconds, then nods. “A cooking game show.”

“I’d be on a cooking game show, if we got to eat at the end,” Finn says, scribbling down what he hopes are the right steps on his paper before sliding it back over to Puck and looking at him with his most convincing done-with-math face.

“Yeah, that’s good,” Puck says without really looking at the paper very closely. “Let’s go outside. Bethie-girl, outside time!”

“Yay! Sunshine for the Beej!” Finn says, scooping her up from her playmat. 

“And for us,” Puck says, almost as excited as he was for Beth. “I wonder if she’ll be able to go in those baby swings soon. The outside kind, not those carseat-looking things at the baby store.”

Finn holds Beth a little closer. “I don’t know. I think those things look dangerous. Ooh, but we can take her to the pool soon!”

“As long as it’s clean.” Puck grabs two pops as they go through the kitchen. “At least no one’s bugged me about a summer class for a few weeks.”

“I told them they had to stop,” Finn says. 

“Good. It’s not like I’m trying to get into Harvard or something.” Puck sighs. “One more week. That’s how I’m counting it anyway.”

“And we can sleep late,” Finn says. “Like, maybe even to nine or ten!”

“Yeah, that’d be awesome. Maybe we should find Beth some baby-friends.”

“Do they have, like, baby bars or something? Where you can go out and meet other babies?” Finn asks. 

“Probably like… parks?” Puck guesses. “Hey, maybe they have baby swim lessons!”

“She can’t even sit up yet, though. How could she swim?”

“She’s really good at lying down on her stomach.” Puck shrugs. “Maybe floaties.”

“Or a ring shaped like a duckie!” Finn hands Beth over to Puck so he can drag two of the plastic chairs on the back deck next to each other. 

“What do you think, Beth? Want to meet some other babies?” Puck asks her. “Yeah, look at you holding that head up for a little bit.”

“What if the other babies lick her toys?” Finn asks.

“Baby wipe.”

“What if they lick _her_?” Finn asks.

“Baby wipe.”

“What if they’re sick when they lick her, and she gets sick?” Finn asks.

“Lots of baby wipes.” Puck smirks. “And a visit to Dr. Brooks.”

“I don’t want Beej to get sick, though. What if she pukes? Like _real_ pukes, not spit-up pukes!” Finn says.

“Can babies for-real puke? I didn’t think they could,” Puck says. “We’ll just keep the other babies from licking her, I guess. Right, Beth? You have to be older before there’s any licking.”

“No licking ever, Beej. Don’t listen to him,” Finn insists. “Nobody’s ever allowed to lick you!”

“Dude. She’ll grow up eventually,” Puck says, shaking his head. “What if your mom said no one could ever lick you?”

“Who licks me?” Finn says. “Nobody, that’s who.”

“Yeah, you might want someone to one of these days.”

“Nobody will ever _want_ to lick me,” Finn says. “Anyway, I’ve got you and Beej. I don’t need somebody to lick me.”

Puck gives Finn a long weird look, then shrugs. “Are we gonna do anything this summer besides sleep and baby-friends?”

Finn shrugs back. “I dunno. Apparently we’re gonna sit around and worry about licking,” he says. He can hear the phone ringing inside, but when a few beats pass after it stops, he continues talking. “We should take Beth some place fun. Do that memory making thing, where we take pictures and stuff.”

“Where you wanna go, Bethie-girl?” Puck says. “We could take her to the fair. Oh, or like, minor league baseball.”

“That would be fun!” Finn says. “Maybe we can find a petting zoo. She could pet some goats. Wouldn’t that be so cute, if we got pictures of her petting some goats?”

“Aren’t goats mean? Maybe sheep. We can see if Kurt and Mercedes want to go to the fair with us.”

“No, sheep have creepy-looking faces. Goats are cute, especially the baby ones!”

“Sheep aren’t creepy!” Puck insists. “And they have wool. We’d all be cold without sheep.”

“You’d be cold without sheep. I don’t get cold like you get cold,” Finn says. “Besides, wool makes me itchy and it gives me migraines.”

“It’s _not_ a migraine,” Puck says, shaking his head. “It’s just a headache. You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not! I’m never dramatic!”

“You’re being a little dramatic right now. Isn’t Uncle Finn dramatic?” Puck asks Beth. “It’s okay, that’s why she loves you.”

“Aww, do you love me, Beej?” Finn says, holding his hands out for Beth. “If you love me, you should come visit me!” Beth smiles a huge smile and waves her arms around, until Puck deposits her into Finn’s lap.

The back door opens, and Carole calls out, “Boys, could you come in for a minute?”

Puck frowns and looks at Finn. “That’s weird.”

“Sure, Mom, we’ll be right in,” Finn calls back, standing up with Beth and looking back at Puck with a shrug before carrying her inside. “What’s up?”

“Let’s all go sit down in the living room,” Carole says.

“Did somebody _die_?” Finn asks. “Who was it? What happened?”

“No! Goodness, Finn,” Carole says, shaking her head. “Calm down. Nothing happened. Nobody died.”

“Then you need to lead in with ‘first of all, nobody died!’ ” Finn says.

“It’s a valid question,” Puck says, nodding. 

“Oh, boys,” Carole sighs. “No, it’s just that… well, that was Quinn Fabray’s mother on the phone just now.”

“She can’t have Beth,” Puck blurts out.

“Oh, Noah, sweetheart! No. She’s not trying to take Beth,” Carole assures him. “She called because she would like to meet her, though. She also said something about maybe setting up some sort of fund for her.”

“So she can… buy her?” Puck says skeptically. 

“No,” Carole says. “To help provide for her. I’m not sure if she means in the short-term, long-term, college, or something else. I guess she can explain all of that if you agree to meet with her.”

“What if it’s a trick and she tries to take Beth once she’s here?” Finn asks.

“Finn, Noah is Beth’s father. He has all the legal rights to her. Ms. Fabray isn’t going to try to take her,” Carole says.

“I don’t really want her to come here,” Puck says, frowning. “I mean, sure, we can meet with her, but not here.”

“We can find a neutral meeting place. I’ll also come with you, if you think that would make you feel more comfortable,” Carole says.

“If she tries anything, I’m taking Beth and running,” Finn says.

“Like before the baby doctor test,” Puck agrees, nodding. 

“Boys, honestly,” Carole says. “You’re the worst first time parents I’ve ever met. Everything will be fine. She just wants to see Beth, and then we’ll all leave and go get some ice cream.”

“But no ice cream for Beej,” Finn says. “The mall doctor website says so.”

“Doctor Game Stop?” Puck says, then shrugs and looks at Carole. “Yeah, okay, but maybe after school’s out. We have finals still.”

“I think that’s perfectly reasonable. I’ll let her know,” Carole says. “Also, I was thinking of ordering in some Chinese for dinner. How does that sound?”

“Don’t forget Puck’s mu shu pork,” Finn says.

Puck nods. “Yeah, that sounds good.” He frowns at Carole again. “Did— I mean—” he cuts himself off and shakes his head a little. 

“What, sweetheart?”

“Nothing,” Puck says after a few seconds, and he looks away from Carole. “C’mon, Beth, you gonna help me learn history before dinner?”

“We’ll teach your dad about the baby revolution,” Finn says. “There’s no singing, no matter what Kurt and Mercedes say, okay?”

“Except that revolution that was a musical, right?” Puck asks. 

“Shhh, we’re not teaching her about that!” Finn says. He flies Beth over to Puck, complete with jet noises, and Puck makes a runway. “Oh, she’s coming in for a landing!” he says as he flies her into Puck’s arms.

“You’ll be landing on a carrier deck in no time,” Puck tells Beth. 

“Top Gun Beth,” Finn agrees. “Now we can help your dad with his history paper, so he doesn’t have to take that stupid test next week, huh?”

“Definitely the fewer tests the better,” Puck says. “Then we can sleep and make baby-friends.”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “Lots of baby friends.”

“Wherever they’re hiding.” Puck shrugs. 

“In baby pantries,” Finn says.

Beth scrunches up her face like she’s working hard on a poop, but instead she lets out a loud “Ah-bah!” noise. 

“Beej said a new sound!” Finn says.

“Hey, what’s that mean?” Puck asks her. “You trying out names for studying?”

“I’m gonna call it ‘ah-bah’ too,” Finn tells Beth. “That’s how I feel about it.”

“I’m not sure it’s a strong enough distaste,” Puck says as he stands up. “Let’s wait and see what she thinks of, like, baby-food peas. Use that sound.”

“What if she loves the peas?”

“Then I’m getting those fucking swabs redone,” Puck jokes. “You’re not gonna love peas, are you, Bethie-girl?”

Finn tries to cover up his smile. “I, uh…”

“You can’t contaminate her with your… heretical! Heretical pea-loving ways,” Puck declares.

“Nature versus nurture,” Finn counters. “I read it on the mall doctor baby website!”

“Yeah, well, Doctor Bath and Body Works probably doesn’t understand the depth of my pea-hating,” Puck says, smirking at Finn. “But fine. Baby green beans. There’s no way anyone wants to eat puréed green beans.”

“Somebody probably has to, or they wouldn’t make them, you’d think,” Finn says. “But I don’t guess we really need to feed those to Beej.”

“Baby pizza,” Puck says with a straight face.

“Can we just blend it up?”

“Only if we pick the pepperoni off first.” Puck smirks at that and heads up the stairs, putting Beth back on the playmat. “Right, Bethie-girl? Tell Uncle Finn you don’t want puréed pepperoni!”

“She might,” Finn says. “Don’t turn her against pepperoni until she’s had a chance to try it.”

Puck looks at Finn and shakes his head sadly. “You never told me you had a purée fetish.”

“Yeah, well you have a _math_ fetish.”

Puck grins and exaggeratedly bats his eyelashes. “Oooh, talk numbers to me.”

“I’ll tell you all about how the segments are perpendicular,” Finn says. 

"Sexy," Puck says, flopping onto the bed on his back.

Finn waggles his eyebrows at Puck. “The triangle is… _isosceles_.”

"Stop, I won't be able to control myself!" Puck looks at Beth and laughs. "Think of the baby!"

“Yeah, I guess there’s some stuff Beej shouldn’t see,” Finn says, sitting on the other side of the bed.

Puck keeps grinning. "And the isosceles triangle is definitely one of them."

“Definitely,” Finn agrees. “But now we have to get your paper done so you don’t have to take that test or think about world history again.”

"Yeah, yeah." Puck rolls to the side, looking down at Beth. "Careful, Beth, he'll start quizzing you on colors soon."

“Yeah, and then by next year, she’ll be quizzing _us_ ,” Finn says.

Puck grins, looking back up. “Baby genius, that’s our girl.”

 

Finals go better than either of them thought they would, and on the last Thursday of school, the whole glee club meets up in the choir room after they’ve finished all their finals. Rachel brings a huge container of cupcakes and actually manages to not glare at Puck when she hands him one. Nobody talks about how the choir room still feels short one person, or how Rachel made one cupcake too many. They give the extra to the piano guy, who gets super excited that someone remembered him. Finn decides his big goal for next school year is to learn the piano guy’s name.

“You guys have formed an incredible group this year.” Mr. Schue stops for a moment and looks like he’s tearing up. “I never imagined this at the beginning of the year. Which makes me think there’s no way we can dream up the things that will happen next year.” He manages to smile and opens his arms up like he’s trying to give all of them a hug at once. “I know I’m looking forward to it though.” 

“Mr. Schuester?” Rachel says. “I would like all of us to join in a final performance for this school year, in memory of our absent member.”

“Mr. Schuster, if I may?” Kurt says before Mr. Schue can respond. “I believe our performance last month can stand on its own in that regard.” 

Everyone in the room seems to agree with Kurt, because there’s a lot of mutters of “yeah” and “that’s right,” though when Finn looks over at Puck, he’s just staring down at Beth. Even though Rachel probably did mean well, Finn can’t help but be mad at her for reminding Puck of all the Quinn stuff, especially when he was finally starting to be more okay with all of it.

“Mr. Schue?” Finn says. Mr. Schue nods at Finn, raising his eyebrows. “You have frosting on your face.”

Puck looks up at that as he reaches into his open backpack. “Baby wipe?” he offers to Mr. Schue. 

“Oh! Oops. Yeah, thanks,” Mr. Schue says to Puck, and he has a wipe in hand, halfway to his face, when he freezes and gives Puck and then the baby wipe each odd looks.

“It’s a new one,” Finn says. “It hasn’t been used.”

If anything, that makes Mr. Schue look more confused, and he stares at the baby wipe for a few more seconds before actually using it to wipe the frosting from his face. 

“What’s so weird about a baby wipe?” Puck whispers to Finn. 

“Maybe it’s ’cause Coach Sylvester keeps saying his chin looks like a baby’s butt,” Finn whispers back. “It doesn’t, though. Beth’s butt’s way squishier.”

“We should sing ‘Baby Got Back’ for her!” Puck says, his whispering getting more excited. 

“What’s she gonna do with all that junk?” Finn whispers, even more loudly. “All that junk inside her trunk?”

“Finn Hudson!” Mercedes suddenly says, as Kurt starts dying laughing next to her. “Tell me you aren’t singing ‘My Humps’ to that baby!”

Finn makes his serious face at Mercedes, and says, “But if I tell you that, I’ll be a liar, and that’s a terrible role-model for Beej.”

Puck nods. “We had to make _something_ off-limits, and lying seemed like a good choice. She’s already a thief. Likes to steal our hair. And room in bed.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how a baby that size takes up so much of the bed,” Finn says, grabbing Beth’s hand when she waves it around. “There’s barely any room left for us!”

The room suddenly gets quiet, and when Finn looks around, everybody’s got strange looks on their faces. He looks back at Puck, who just shrugs. 

“I still think it’s dangerous for Beth to be sleeping in a grown-up sized bed with you,” Mercedes says.

“Nah, he checked on the Doctor Elder-Beerman site,” Puck says, smirking at Finn. 

“No, dude, his name is Doctor Macy’s or something,” Finn says.

“Are you two talking about Doctor _Sears_?” the piano guy suddenly breaks in. “The attachment parenting guru?”

“Does he have a website that talks about sleeping and stuff?” Finn asks.

“Yes,” the piano guy says. “We loved it when our girls were babies.”

“Oh, cool,” Finn says. 

“See?” Puck says triumphantly. 

“I didn’t know Brad had kids,” Tina says quietly, her hand up to her mouth to keep Mr. Schue and the piano guy from hearing her.

“Girl, I didn’t even know his name was Brad,” Mercedes confesses.

“Too bad they’re too old to be baby-friends,” Puck says to Beth. “We’re going to have to stalk Dr. Brooks’ office to find you some baby-friends.”

“Now, I know the baby is distractingly cute,” Rachel says, “but we should all take a moment to discuss whether and how often we’d like to meet over the summer.”

“We have plans for the summer,” Puck says very solemnly. 

“Oh?” Rachel says coolly. “More important than New Directions?”

“I know the fair is more important,” Puck says to Finn in a stage-whisper. “But what about the petting zoo?”

“Hmm. The petting zoo might have baby ducks,” Finn replies. 

“Ducklings!” Puck says to Beth. 

Rachel huffs loudly. “I’m sure you’re just trying to aggravate me with this discussion,” she says. “Regardless, I do not want to be derailed. I was thinking perhaps once a we—”

“No,” Puck interrupts. “We’re not trying to aggravate you.”

“Mercedes and I get to go to the fair,” Kurt says, sounding pleased. 

“Are you actually suggesting that your little field trips are more important than regular rehearsal?” Rachel demands. 

“For you? No. For me? Yeah.” Puck shrugs. “Look, you don’t like it, whatever, but I’ve got a kid. And, yeah, stuff with her _is_ more important than summer rehearsal for me.” 

Rachel looks like someone physically slapped her, eyes wide, and she opens her mouth to respond when Brittany says, very matter-of-factly, “I like baby ducks.”

Everybody turns to look at Brittany, who shrugs. “What? They’re delicious.”

“That’s weird,” Puck whispers. “Don’t eat the baby ducks when we go to the petting zoo, Beth.”

“Don’t put ducks in your mouth, Beej,” Finn says.

“Okay, everyone,” Mr. Schue says loudly. “I think everyone is safe taking the summer off from group choral activities. Rachel, you and anyone else who want to work on your own skills, of course that’s fine.”

Rachel smiles at that, tossing her hair back as she beams and nods at Mr. Schue. “Thank you, Mr. Schuester.”

“You’re welcome?” Mr. Schue says, sounding somewhat confused. “Does anyone have anything else to mention before the summer?”

“Ah-bah!” Beth yells.

Mr. Schue chuckles. “I think that’s our cue to adjourn.”

“Good job, Bethie-girl,” Puck whispers as he stands up with Beth. 

“We should get some curly fries and milkshakes on the way home,” Finn says. “I want lunch again.”

“We should eat ’em there and then your mom won’t get mad if we make pizza rolls later,” Puck says, grabbing his backpack.

“That’s why I love you, dude,” Finn says. 

Rachel makes a weird noise like she’s choking, and turns from her conversation with Mr. Schue to give Finn and Puck a horrified look, her eyes wide. She stares until Mr. Schue has to tap on the top of the piano to get her attention. “Rachel?” he finally says, and she whips her head back around towards him. 

“Quick!” Finn whispers, pushing Puck towards the door. “While she’s not looking!”

“I should sell my truck and get a Batmobile at this rate,” Puck grumbles.

“Finn, did you want another cupcake?” Rachel calls after them. 

“Nope!” Finn calls back as they hurry out. “Thanks!”

“Smash a cupcake in her _face_ ,” Puck says. 

“No, we’ll just run for the car and get our curly fries,” Finn says.

“Better for my stomach, but if we smash a cupcake in her face, we can take a picture and treasure _that_ forever.”

“Hey, we don’t have to see her until next school year,” Finn says. “We don’t need a picture.”

“Hear that, Bethie-girl? No more Rachel! That’s worth losing the casserole over. Maybe I should email Mr. Berry for the recipe,” Puck says. 

“I bet Mr. Berry would still send casseroles,” Finn says.

“Yeah, but I’d rather have no Rachel and no casserole,” Puck explains when they get to the car. “And I gotta sell my truck anyway.”

“Yeah. Should we get a minivan or something?” Finn asks. 

Puck shudders. “No. I wasn’t really planning to need more than one carseat, you know?” 

“Yeah, but we could carry my drums around in it,” Finn says. “Like, what if we wanted to start a band or something?”

“Dude, I am _not_ getting a minivan,” Puck insists. “Or a station wagon, before you ask.”

“Maybe a truck with a back seat?” Finn asks hopefully. 

Puck gives Finn a weird look, then shakes his head. “Maybe,” he says. 

“Just in case we still wanted to start a band, is all.”

“You could get your own drum-carrying vehicle, you know,” Puck says. 

“Oh,” Finn says, feeling his face sort of droop. “Yeah. I guess I could.”

“It’d be good to spend less on gas, too,” Puck says after a few moments.

“Yeah,” Finn agrees quietly. Puck gets Beth buckled into her carseat, where she promptly starts screaming like she’s being strapped into a bed of nails or something, just like she does every single car trip. Finn sits in the passenger seat and waits for Puck to get in and start the car before he asks, “Are you mad at me?”

“Huh?” Puck says, looking confused.

“Okay. Never mind.”

“Now I wanna know,” Puck says, sticking his tongue out at Finn as he turns towards the Arby’s. 

“It’s nothing. I’m probably just hungry,” Finn says.

“Every single one of us in this car is always hungry.”

“Yeah, but Beej has to grow, and you’ve got muscles and stuff,” Finn says. “I just get the pudge.”

“The pudge?” Puck repeats, shaking his head. “You’re crazy. You’ve probably got like three more years of growing and shit.”

“I’ll never be able to find jeans my size,” Finn says.

“Your mom probably knows some kind of shopping secret.” Puck shrugs. “Or Kurt.”

“My mom won’t buy my clothes forever!” Finn says, maybe a little more defensively than he means to.

“Kurt, then. He can probably teach you where to buy them, too,” Puck says in a very reasonable tone. “Like that baby-shoe site he bookmarked on my computer, for Beth.”

“I can find my own clothes!”

“You just said you wouldn’t have any jeans,” Puck says, looking distressed, though that might be because of Beth’s screaming as they pull up to the drive-through. 

“I have jeans now! I just meant if I keep growing,” Finn says.

“Hello? Can I take your order? Hello?” says the voice coming through the drive-through speaker. “Is everybody okay?”

“She just hates the carseat!” Puck yells back before ordering their curly fries and milkshakes. 

When they pull up to the window, the Arby’s girl looks terrified of Beth as she hands the bag and two cups in to Puck. “Maybe you guys should eat in next time?” she offers.

“Just prolonging the inevitable,” Puck says with a shrug. “Thanks.” He stuffs some fries in his mouth as he drives away, then grins. “Okay, you gotta admit the look on her face was pretty awesome.”

“Well, Beej is the loudest baby ever,” Finn says.

“Yeah. Beth! We don’t have to go to school all summer!” Puck says loudly. “You don’t have to ride in the carseat twice a day anymore!”

“Yaaaaay!” Finn says. “Yaaaay, Beej!”

“It’s not working,” Puck admits a few seconds later. “We need to find baby-friends that are walking distance.”

“Or make them come to us,” Finn says.

Puck laughs. “We’ll probably scare all the moms of the baby-friends.” 

“We’ll just have to trick them until their babies are such good friends with Beej that they have to keep coming over,” Finn says. “I’ll look up some baby-friend groups tonight.”

“Like Halloween. Trick or treat, be friends with Beth,” Puck says, nodding. “Yeah, that works.”

“Oh, hey, we’ll get to dress her up for Halloween and take her trick-or-treating!” Finn says.

“I want her to be baby Yoda,” Puck says. 

“Aww, I wanted her to be a ladybug.”

“Nah, see, she can be Yoda, and I can be Han Solo, and you can be…” Puck trails off, eating a huge mouthful of fries as he grins at Finn.

“What? Luke?” Finn asks. “Don’t say Darth Vader.”

“Nah, the other Skywalker.” Puck swallows and grins wider. “You can be slave bikini Leia.”

“Dude! Asshole!” Finn says, shoving Puck, even though Puck is driving and it’s definitely not safe to shove someone who’s driving. 

“It’d be awesome!” Puck says, laughing hard as he drives. 

“I’d look like the worst Leia in a bikini ever!” Finn argues. “I’d be so gross.”

“We’d have to get you a fake braid is all,” Puck says. “It’d totally rock. C’mon, _Star Wars_ , dude!”

“No way. I’m not being slave bikini Leia.”

Puck sighs, looking legitimately disappointed as they get to the house. “Regular cinnamon buns Leia?”

“Dude, no,” Finn says. 

“We can’t be Luke and Han, or Luke and Leia,” Puck says, climbing out and getting in the back to save Beth from the horrible baby-eating carseat. “I guess you could be the wookie.”

“Why can’t we be?”

“Dude.” Puck makes a face at Finn as they walk inside. “I mean, I _guess_ Luke and Han’d be okay.”

“What’s wrong with Luke and Han?” Finn asks. 

Puck shrugs and doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. “Nothing, I guess,” he finally says. 

“I don’t have to be Luke,” Finn says, not sure why it’s so important to Puck. It obviously is, though.

“It’s whatever,” Puck calls from the kitchen, and Finn can hear Puck getting a bottle ready for Beth. “Halloween’s months away, anyway.” Puck reappears with Beth’s bottle already in Beth’s mouth, two cans of pop tucked under his arm. 

“Yeah, but I just don’t understand what the problem is,” Finn says. “So, now I think maybe you’re for real mad at me or something.”

Puck snorts, gesturing for Finn to take the cans of pop as he sits down with Beth. “More like myself.”

“What? Why?” Finn asks.

“I just forget some things sometimes.” Puck shrugs. 

“Did something happen on one of your tests or something?” Finn asks.

“What?” Puck looks at Finn and shakes his head. “No. Not that kind of forgetting.” 

“Well, what, then?”

“Just, I forget that— nah, let’s just drop it,” Puck insists. “We can take a nap this afternoon.”

“I don’t want to drop it,” Finn says. “I want you to tell me what’s going on.”

“Yeah, nope,” Puck says. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Well, you brought it up, so too bad.”

“No, it’s just me being stupid. Let’s take a nap,” Puck says. 

“Fine,” Finn huffs. “We won’t talk about it.”

“Good.” Puck sets the bottle down on the coffee table in front of him and burps Beth. 

“Great,” Finn says. “Let’s go up and take a nap, then.”

“Fine.” Puck stands up and starts walking towards the stairs without looking at Finn.

“ _Fine_ ,” Finn retorts. He follows Puck upstairs, and they both lie down on the bed with Beth in the middle. Finn refuses to make eye contact with Puck, which is stupid, but he doesn’t care. When Puck doesn’t say anything else, though, Finn does open one eye to look at him. Puck’s eyes are already closed. Finn sighs and closes his eyes again, taking advantage of the opportunity to sleep without having to worry about studying.

 

Finn wakes up from their nap before Puck, but after Beth, so he picks up Beth and carries her downstairs with him. Carole is already fixing dinner, and Finn has to duck around her to get a bottle ready for Beth.

“Oh, this kitchen!” Carole complains. “It was barely big enough for the two of us, let alone a family of four!”

Finn likes that Carole calls them a family, so he smiles at her and says, “I’m done now! I’ll stay out of your way!”

“I’m roasting a chicken,” Carole says.

“Awesome,” Finn says. “I’m feeding Beej.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call her that,” Carole sighs.

“Too late!”

Beth has just finished her bottle when Puck comes down the stairs, rubbing his hands over his head and yawning. He kisses Beth on the top of her head, then goes into the kitchen. “Need any help?” he asks Carole. 

“I’m telling you the same thing I told Finn, shoo!” Carole says. “You boys have gotten too big!”

“Okay,” Puck says, but he ends up leaning against the wall in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, standing there without saying anything. 

“Are you growing your mohawk back?” Finn asks.

“Huh?” Puck runs a hand over his head again and shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Do you want me to buzz the sides?”

“No.” 

“Fine, I was just asking!”

“And I said _maybe_ ,” Puck retorts.

“Fine,” Finn says, crossing his arms so he’s got Beth in a bear hug and slouching down on the sofa. 

“Ah-bah! Ah-bah!” Beth babbles, wiggling in Finn’s arms. 

“No more of that,” Puck says to Beth. “No more ah-bah for a few months.”

Beth keeps wiggling, then starts to cry loudly, different from her carseat cry. Finn repositions her in his arms, but she keep squalling and waving her arms frantically. 

“What’s up, Bethie-girl?” Puck asks, taking her from Finn and bouncing a little with her. “It looks like you just ate, and you haven’t rumbled.”

“I can get her calmed down. You just have to give me a chance to try!” Finn says. 

Puck makes a face at Finn. “I didn’t say you couldn’t. What’s your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem. What’s _your_ problem?” Finn asks.

“Boys!” Carole says sharply from the doorway from the kitchen. “What is either of your problems?”

“ _I_ don’t have a problem either,” Puck says to Finn, ignoring Carole.

“Wonderful. No one has a problem,” Carole says. “Come in and eat this chicken before _I_ develop a problem.”

“Chicken, Bethie-girl,” Puck says to Beth, sitting down at the table. “You can eat chicken in a few months. Tell Uncle Finn not to take both legs, though.”

“Beej, tell your dad that I’ll take both legs if I want to, until you’re big enough to eat chicken,” Finn says. 

“Boys!” Carole snaps. “Wash your hands please!”

Puck makes a face at Beth where Carole can’t see, but stands back up and washes his hands one at a time before moving to the side so Finn can get to the sink. Finn washes his hands and then dries them, then they all sit back down again to start putting food on their plates. Finn doesn’t really try to take both chicken legs, though.

Puck doesn't say anything to Carole or Finn during the meal, eating and occasionally saying a few sentences to Beth. Finn props his arms on the table and hunches over his food until Carole swats him with her napkin to make him sit up. 

“What is _wrong_ with you two?” she asks, shaking her head. “Honestly.”

“Nothing,” Finn grumbles.

“I think you two are exhausted, is what I think,” Carole says. “It’s good that school is finally out. You boys can get some rest.”

Puck nods a little, not saying anything, and after they finish eating, Puck goes and sits heavily on the couch. He grabs the remote and turns on _The World’s Grisliest Crocodile Deaths_ without looking at Finn. 

“Dude, I hate that show,” Finn says.

"Yeah?" Puck says flatly.

“So, can we watch something else?”

“Beth likes watching the crocodiles,” Puck says.

“She’s gonna get warped and be a, I dunno, serial killer or something!” Finn says. “A crocodile serial killer!”

“I think she’s more likely to be the next Croc Hunter,” Puck says, shaking his head. He doesn’t change the channel, though, and he keeps his hand on the remote.

“I just don’t think she needs to see people being eaten by crocodiles,” Finn says.

“Then she probably doesn’t need to watch _Inside the Real Mafia_ , either,” Puck says. “They poisoned someone with lasagna last time!”

“You know those shows are scripted,” Finn counters. “Nobody really died. You can look it up online and see.”

“Then I guess the crocodiles aren’t really killing people either.”

“That’s different. That’s a nature show!”

“Ah-bah!” Beth says.

“See? Beth agrees with me!” Finn says. 

“No, she was telling you you were wrong.”

“ _No_ , she was saying she doesn’t like crocodiles!”

“Oh for goodness sake, you two!” Carole finally exclaims. “Give me that baby, and the two of you go up and go to sleep before I feed both of you to the crocodiles.”

“Fine.” Puck stands up and hands Beth to Carole, then practically sprints up the stairs.

“You know, now that Puck’s upstairs, I can take Beej and we can watch―”

“No,” Carole says. “No, you can’t. What you can do is go upstairs and go to sleep. I’ll bring Beth in after her first wake up.”

“Okay, Mom,” Finn says. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m just trying to protect Beth from you two’s ridiculousness,” Carole says. “Go.”

“Okay, Mom,” Finn repeats, then goes upstairs. When he gets to his room, Puck is spread out over two-thirds of the bed, his eyes closed in what is obviously fake sleep, since there’s no way he could possibly be two-thirds-of-the-bed asleep that fast. Finn swaps his jeans out for a pair of pajama pants and flops onto the bed as hard as he can, making sure the whole thing sways and sags, muttering, “Asshole bed-stealer,” before closing his eyes.

Puck doesn’t say anything or move, still pretending to be asleep. Finn tosses and rolls a few time to get comfortable, intentionally bumping and shoving Puck a few times, but eventually he relaxes and lets himself fall asleep. When Finn wakes up again, sunlight is streaming through the window, and he’s initially confused about what day it is and how long he slept, and how it is, exactly, he slept that long.

“Puck?” he says quietly, sitting up and looking around the room. “Beej?”

When nobody responds, Finn gets up and leaves the room, listening in the hallway for any signs of life. He can hear the TV going downstairs, so that’s probably a good indication that there wasn’t an alien abduction or a kidnapping or a zombie apocalypse or something like that. He walks down the stairs as quietly as he can.

“Puck?” he whispers loudly. “Are you down here?”

Puck’s arm comes up over the back of the sofa and waves, the rest of him slouched down, and he whispers back, “Naptime.”

“What time is it?” Finn whispers as he approaches the couch. “What happened? How did I not wake up?”

“No school, remember? It’s Rachael Ray o’clock.”

“Yeah, but how did I sleep through the midnight Beejing? Or the three o’clock Beejing?”

Puck shrugs. “I guess you were tired enough not to wake up.” 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Finn says. “You got stuck with all of them!”

“I figured you needed to catch up. First part of the summer and all of that.”

“Do you want to go take a nap or something? I can hold her,” Finn offers.

“Nah, I’m good. There’s a danish ring in the kitchen.”

“Okay,” Finn says. He goes in to get some danish ring, and sits down on the sofa next to Puck, who does have Beth sprawled on his chest, sound asleep. “How’s Beej this morning?”

“Sweaty,” Puck says. “I don’t think she likes Rachael Ray, though. I guess since she’s older now, she’s focusing more on things like Today.”

“She can tell me all about that thing that’s happening in that place,” Finn says. “Bite of danish?” He holds the danish out to Puck.

Puck leans forward and takes a bite. “Some celebrity did a celebrity thing.”

“Well, I hope they get better soon,” Finn says. 

“We should make Beth a twitter. Baby-thoughts on world events,” Puck suggests.

“She’d be baby-famous,” Finn says. “Hey! Then she can have baby-famous baby-friends!”

“They can all be on baby-TMZ,” Puck agrees. 

Finn laughs and shakes his head. “But I’m not sure we want her playing with some of those babies.”

“Baby-elitist!”

“I just don’t want her thinking that she can do the things those rich babies do,” Finn says. “We can’t afford that kind of lifestyle.”

Puck nods soberly. “Those rich babies don’t appreciate the value of hard work and, uh.” He pauses, thinking. “Sacrifice.”

“I’m gonna go Google ‘baby-friends’ and see if I can find some for her,” Finn says. He stands up and walks over to the computer. “Okay. ‘Baby-friends in Lima’ should work.”

“Ohio. We don’t want to be in Argentina or wherever,” Puck says. “Whichever place in South America.”

“Okay. ‘Baby-friends in Lima, Ohio’,” Finn says. “Okay, do we want to take her to baby yoga?”

“No,” Puck says quickly. “We don’t want to do yoga. Plus our feet stink.”

“Hmm. There’s some group called Baby & Me at the YMCA.”

“Do you have to be ‘C’ to go?” Puck asks. “They might not want a Jewish baby.”

“Nah, it’s through the Lima Parks, Recreation, and Forestry Division,” Finn reads from the website. “It’s only twenty-five dollars for her whole first year. We could do that. The only requirement is that she be a baby, and she’s a baby, so we’re good!”

“What do you think, Bethie-girl? You want to go make some baby-friends?” Beth keeps sleeping, and Puck shrugs. “Close enough to a yes. Do we have to call or sign up or anything, or can we just go and pay there?”

“I think we just sign up there. They have them on Tuesdays and Thursdays at ten in the morning every week,” Finn says. 

“Okay, we can get up by ten twice a week,” Puck says, like he’s making a huge sacrifice. “We can go next week.”

“Cool,” Finn says. “You want me to keep looking, or should we try that first? We don’t want her to have too many baby-friends.”

“We’ll try it first. If it’s through the city, they can’t kick us out or anything,” Puck says. 

“Cool.” Finn goes back over to the couch. “So what do we want to do today?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Puck says, stretching a little. “Maybe call your mom and see if we can order pizza for lunch.”

“Dude, that’s brilliant,” Finn says.

“T.G.I.S.,” Puck says.

“Tuh-giss?”

“Thank god it’s _summer_ , asshole,” Puck says with a laugh.

“Oh, I thought maybe we were spelling so Beth wouldn’t understand,” Finn says.

“We probably have a few more months before we have to start that. Except for b-o-t-t-l-e.”

“We should start before we think we should start, though, just in case she’s smart _and_ sneaky,” Finn says.

“Huh. Yeah, good point,” Puck says. “She probably is sneaky.”

“Well, she’s a Puckerman.”

Puck grins. “Exactly.” 

 

On Tuesday, Finn and Puck get up earlier than they have the previous couple of days, so they can give Beth a bath and get her dressed in something nice. Finn decides not to mention to Puck that he’d called Kurt the night before to find out what they should put on Beth, so that way when Puck is impressed, it’ll be with Finn, not Kurt. 

“So, I think it should be the yellow one with the flowery things on it,” Finn says.

“Yeah, okay, that sounds good,” Puck says. He turns to Finn and grins. “But no yellow on me, it’s not my color.”

“Yeah, me either,” Finn agrees. 

“You probably can’t pull off the flowers, either.” 

“I might be able to, but not those little white and yellow ones,” Finn says. “I’d need bigger flowers.”

“Those big white ones?” Puck asks. 

“Maybe some sunflowers or something,” Finn says.

“Do they make pink sunflowers? Pink sunflowers,” Puck says, clearly struggling to maintain a straight face. 

“Yeah, that’s definitely what I’m gonna wear on the first day of school next year,” Finn says. “Big ol’ pink sunflowers.”

“Right before you go to your Cheerios audition,” Puck says cheerfully. “Okay, Bethie-girl, no spitting up on this outfit for now, okay?”

“Let’s go make some baby-friends!” Finn says. “I wish we could walk there.”

Puck nods. “I wish we could walk _everywhere_.”

Beth screams the whole way to the YMCA, but at least it’s not really that far, so she doesn’t scream long enough to turn red and get blotchy like she does if they have to be in the car for more than five minutes. Puck unbuckles her while Finn gets the diaper backpack, and then Puck puts her into her baby carrier before they go in to the YMCA building.

Finn signs them in at the front desk, and pays the twenty-five dollars that Carole gave him. Beth gets a name tag sticker to stick on her back, so that everybody knows she’s supposed to be there, and the YMCA lady directs them to a room down the hall where the other babies are. As Finn and Puck are about to go into the room, Finn feels a hand on his shoulder. 

“Excuse me,” a woman behind them says. “This is the Baby & Me class. The judo club meets on the other side of the building.”

Puck turns around, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah, I don’t think Beth would really like judo. We’re just the ‘and me’ part.”

“Oops!” the woman says. “I didn’t see her there. We don’t usually get…” She trails off and smiles brightly. “Well, I’m just glad to see some dads here for once!”

“Beth needs some baby-friends, we figured,” Puck says. 

“Oh, of course!” the woman says, her smile getting even wider and more exaggerated. “That’s so great!”

Puck’s eyebrow goes higher, and he looks like he’s considering saying something, but then he shrugs and starts walking into the room again. The room is full of babies, every single one of them accompanied by a mom who looks like she’s closer to Carole’s age than Finn and Puck’s.

“Are we sure this is the right class?” Finn whispers to Puck.

“I guess we should have looked for ‘Dudes with Babies’ instead,” Puck whispers back. 

“Hello! Are you here for Baby & Me?” an over-excited woman with a red-haired baby asks. “We love first-timers!”

Puck blinks, looking a little surprised by the enthusiasm. “Yeah, this is Beth,” he says. 

“She’s so teensy!” the excited woman says. “I’m Deana, and this is Kennedy,” she adds, pointing down at the red-haired baby, who has managed to cram most of her shoe-covered foot into her own mouth. “Kennedy is seven months. How old is Beth?”

“Beth is two months old,” Finn says. “I call her Beej, though.”

“Well, if you two want to sit down on the mat, just anywhere you think looks comfortable, we’ll go around and all introduce ourselves!” Deana says.

“She must be the leader,” Finn whispers to Puck.

“Or the Rachel,” Puck says quietly, sitting down and getting Beth out of the carrier. Beth waves her arms around, and the woman sitting on Puck’s other side waves at her, then takes her own baby’s hand and makes the baby wave.

The woman who had asked them about whether they were in the right room closes the door as she walks in, taking a seat on the opposite side of the room from Puck and Beth. Deana introduces herself and Kennedy again, in the exact same wording as she had used when talking to Puck, and then the rest of the women start introducing themselves and their babies. Finn really isn’t paying that much attention, though he does notice the set of identical twins who are ten weeks old and have two moms, Jodi and Rebecca. 

“Wow, what if we had a whole extra baby?” Finn whispers.

“We’d never have made it through the end of school,” Puck answers, looking freaked out.

“But we don’t!” Finn assures him. “It’s just Beej.”

When the introductions get around to Puck, Puck hoists Beth up a little. “This is Beth,” he says. “She’s two months old now, so she gets to visit the doctor again soon. And I’m Puck and this is Finn.”

“Hello,” Finn says, waving at the circle of intensely happy-looking moms and weirdly-named babies. When Deana starts explaining about some kind of exercise thing they are going to do with the babies, Finn leans over and quietly asks Puck, “Was that one baby named Carrot?”

“I thought it was Carlene,” Puck says equally quietly.

“And why would you name babies Bella and Ella?” Finn asks. “Do you think it’s short for something?”

Puck shrugs. “I hope so. Maybe so they could just call ‘Ella’ and have both of ’em answer.”

Deana lays Kennedy on her back and starts to move Kennedy’s little fat legs in a circle. Finn says, “I think we’re supposed to do that with Beth.”

“I thought that was the gas thing Dr. Brooks talked about,” Puck says, but he puts Beth on her back, wincing a little at the expression on Beth’s face. “It’s not as bad as the carseat, Bethie-girl.”

“If she farts, do you think they’ll kick us out of the class?” Finn asks.

Puck snorts, trying not to laugh, and picks Beth up before they’re supposed to stop, because Beth is starting to look mad. Deana goes on to demonstrate a few other baby exercises, none of which Beth looks too excited about, since mostly they involve being put down and not held, and Beth really only likes being put down if she has her toys and her play mat. 

“These babies are weird,” Puck says to Finn. “Look at ’em lying there. They’re gonna get bald spots.”

“The Carrot already has one,” Finn says.

Puck snorts again, and he abandons the latest baby exercise, too, picking Beth up and then reaching with his other hand for the diaper backpack. “Maybe it’s fashionable. Vegetable names and bald spots?” Puck pulls out one of Beth’s bottles and looks at Finn. “You want to shake and pat or feed?”

“I’ll shake,” Finn says, taking the bottle and giving it a good shake. 

“Do you need to warm that up?” one of the moms asks. “I know mine won’t take a bottle unless it’s the same temperature as when it’s fresh.”

“Fresh?” Puck says blankly. “Like, instead of expired?”

The mom laughs. “No, no, nursing instead of pumping. It’s so nice of you to give Beth’s mom a break, though.”

Finn inhales sharply and looks over at Puck. Puck is frozen with his hand still held out for the bottle, his eyes wide. Finn presses the bottle into Puck’s hand and glares at the mom. “Beth’s mom _died_ ,” Finn says.

“Oh!” the mom says, looking embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” 

“But we’re taking really good care of her,” Finn says, maybe a little too loudly. “The baby doctor says so. She’s growing just like she’s supposed to. She can even say a word!”

“Ah-bah’s not a word,” Puck says quietly, but he’s at least moved, giving Beth her bottle.

“It’s totally a word,” Finn insists. “She says it all the time. It sounds just like the same thing every single time, too.”

The twins’ moms both laugh at that, which at least makes the other moms stop staring at Finn, Puck, and Beth. Finn can hear one of the moms, the one closest to Deana, muttering something about “the Fabray baby.” Finn glares at her.

“Well, let’s get back to our baby movement!” Deana chirps. “Beth, you can join us once you’ve finished eating.”

“I thought the babies would do more stuff with each other,” Puck whispers to Finn. “Can these people not figure out stuff to do with their babies without the group?”

“I don’t know,” Finn says. “Maybe that part comes later.”

“Yeah, maybe so.” Puck keeps feeding Beth until she spits the bottle nipple out twice in a row, and then he hands her over to Finn. Finn pats her on the back until she lets out a loud burp, and then puts her down on the mat.

“Sorry, Beej. I thought this would be more like a baby party,” Finn says.

“Shot glasses of formula?” Puck says. 

“Baby kegger,” Finn says, which makes the twins’ moms laugh again. 

After ten more minutes of weird baby exercises, which Beth doesn’t seem happy about, Deana announces it’s ‘Baby Socializing Time!’ and that they should feel free to let their babies move around and explore. Since Beth isn’t exactly mobile, Finn picks her up and hands her to Puck.

“Maybe we should help her explore?” Finn says.

“Yeah, she won’t get very far otherwise,” Puck says, nodding. He turns Beth so she can look around the room. “What do you think, Bethie-girl? You want to point your arm where you want to go?”

Beth does flap her arms around, though not in any specific direction. Finn wants to go talk to the twins’ moms, though, so he says, “I think she’s pointing at Bella and Ella.”

“She might like the rhyming part of it,” Puck says, but he walks towards the twins, Beth still flapping her arms and legs around happily. 

“Hi, Bella and Ella,” Finn says, dropping down onto the mat next to one of the twins’ moms. “This is Beej. Or, Beth, I guess, since you probably can’t say Beej yet.”

“Or you aren’t Finn, ’cause he’s the only one that calls her that,” Puck says, sitting down with Beth in front of the twins. “Keep rocking the rhyme, though.”

“Oh, their names are really Isabelle and Elanor,” one of the moms says. 

“Okay,” Finn says. “Which mom are you?”

“Well, we’re both their mothers,” the mom says. “I carried them, but―”

“No, like, are you Rebecca or the other one. Jodi?” Finn asks.

“Oh,” the mom says, her face turning a little red. “Sorry. We’ve had to explain it a lot. I guess you can understand, though. I’m Jodi, this is Rebecca.”

“Hi,” Rebecca says with a smile, then lowers her voice. “Listen, we’re sorry for what the other woman said. Everyone’s business should be their own, you know?”

Puck shrugs and nods. “I guess we should’ve expected it.”

“ _I_ didn’t expect it,” Finn says, glaring over in that woman’s direction again. “What, dads can’t just have babies and go to baby things without it being, like, mom-related somehow?”

“They probably have the work-all-the-time kind of dads,” Puck says. 

Rebecca laughs. “Someone has to pay for the inappropriately large jewelry, right?” 

Puck grins and nudges Finn. “I like her.”

“Yes, I do, too,” Jodi says. “So you’re Finn and Puck?”

“Yep, that’s us!” Finn says. 

Beth says, “Ah-bah!” and waves her arms excitedly at the twins, who, now that they’re next to Beth, turn out to be a lot smaller than Beth, even though they’re a couple of weeks older. 

“Yeah, you should say hi,” Puck says to her, then looks up at Jodi and Rebecca. “We kinda thought she might not like being the only baby she knows.”

“So, I don’t know about, like, baby manners,” Finn says. “But Beej is kind of huge, and Ella and Bella are kinda…”

“They were preemies,” Rebecca says. “It’ll just take them a little longer to catch up!”

“I don’t know if Beth was on time or what,” Finn confesses.

“I thought she was early, but they marked her as term.” Puck shrugs. “I guess they could figure it out if they really needed to.”

“She was totally healthy and everything, though,” Finn says.

“Do yours hate the carseat?” Puck asks almost abruptly. “’Cause Beth screams the entire ride, no matter what.”

“Isabelle, yes. Elanor doesn’t seem to mind,” Jodi says. 

“Maybe she’d like a mirror?” Rebecca asks. “It would give her something to look at. Herself, mostly.”

“Yeah, she’s definitely getting that from you, dude,” Finn says, elbowing Puck.

Puck grins. “We can’t help it if we appreciate good looks!”

“I’m still not sure who she got _those_ from,” Finn says, and Jodi and Rebecca both laugh.

“Clearly your mom,” Puck says in a deadpan voice.

“Awww,” Rebecca says, exchanging a smile with Jodi. 

Something about the shared smiles makes Finn feel weird and awkward, so he blurts, “Can we be baby-friends with you? Well, can Beth, I mean? With your babies?”

Puck laughs. “I think Beth’s already claimed ’em,” he says, gesturing to where Beth has her hand planted on one of the twins. 

“Sure,” Jodi says. “We’ll exchange numbers or email addresses before we leave.”

“Our schedules will be changing pretty soon, too,” Rebecca says. “So we could meet up some weekends.” 

"Our schedules are kinda, uh. Summery, I guess?" Finn says. "But just for the summer. Once school starts, we'll have school all week."

“What he means is, yeah, weekends are probably gonna be good for us, too,” Puck says. 

"Great. I'll let Rebecca get your numbers," Jodi says. "It's my turn to feed the girls."

"Oh, okay, cool," Finn says, and he really does try to be cool about it when Jodi picks up one of the twins and pops her right onto her boob. He isn't completely successful, though, because he hears himself saying, "I'm glad we don't have to do _that_!"

“I bet it’s harder to lose than the pacifier, though,” Puck says very seriously, then elbows Finn in the side. 

"What?" Finn says.

“Neither of you have ever seen anyone nurse before, have you?” Rebecca asks. 

"I'm an only child," Finn says.

“I can’t remember much about my sister being a baby, but my mom had to work a lot and my sister was in daycare or home with me,” Puck says, shrugging. 

"It's not as weird as it looks, I promise," Jodi says. "Helps there's two of us to balance the load. We probably get a little more sleep than some parents of twins."

Deana's loud voice cuts in before they can discuss it any further. "Okay, our time's up for today! We'll see you all on Thursday!"

“That was fast, wasn’t it, Beth?” Puck says.

“Aww, she doesn't want to leave her friends,” Finn says. “Hear her? She says ‘dad, let me stay and play all day!’ ”

“Sorry, Bethie-girl,” Puck tells her as he stands up and then scoops her up. “We’ll see them again soon, okay?” 

"It was nice to meet you," Jodi says. "Will you be back on Thursday?"

"It's better than a _Grisliest Crocodile Deaths_ marathon," Finn says.

“You have no appreciation for nature,” Puck says. “It’s sad. You’d rather watch the Mafia.”

Jodi and Rebecca both laugh. “You two are funny,” Jodi says. 

“There’s a back-up career plan,” Puck says to Finn. “Stand-up comedy. We just have to figure out the non-back-up one.”

The three of them are about to walk out the door, when the woman who was muttering about “the Fabray baby” comes up to them, fake smile pasted on. “Oh, excuse me! I just wanted to ask you a quick question.”

Puck turns and nods, looking curious but not upset. Finn steps a slight step forward, so he’s not really in front of Puck and Beth, but he could be if he just took one more step. 

“Yeah?” Finn says.

“It’s just— I’m a real estate agent, or I was before I had Hank here.” She keeps smiling the same pasted-on smile. “Is that—” She breaks off and lowers her voice. “Is that the Fabray baby? Judy’s little granddaughter?”

Puck pulls back a little, staring at the woman uncertainly, but doesn’t answer. Finn does take that step between Puck and the woman, giving her a hard stare.

“No, that’s the Puckerman baby,” Finn says firmly, then he puts his hand on Puck’s back and steers them both away from the woman. 

“What the fuck?” Puck whispers once they’re in the hallway, looking over his shoulder at the woman, who is staring after them, her pasted-on smile now falling open a little. 

“She’s an idiot. Ignore her,” Finn says. 

“What’s Judy Fabray fucking telling people?” Puck says. “That’s what I want to know.”

“I don’t know. We’ll ask her when we see her,” Finn says, his hand still on Puck’s back, guiding him out towards the car. “We’ll make sure it stops.”

“Yeah.” Puck frowns throughout putting Beth into her seat. “I think Beth had enough excitement, though.”

“Yeah, we’ll all go home and take a nap,” Finn says.

“Naps are the best, aren’t they, Beth?” Puck says, yelling over Beth’s screaming, which starts before they’re even out of the parking lot. 

 

“Dammit, Bethie-girl, you aren’t supposed to try to catch Uncle Finn in the first year,” Puck says. “I mean, it’s good you’re growing, but you’re _out_ growing all your clothes.”

“Uh-oh,” Finn says. “You know what that means.”

“She has to go naked?” Puck asks.

“Nah, we have to call Kurt and Mercedes.”

“Shopping,” Puck says soberly to Beth. 

“Want me to do it?” Finn asks. “Or did you want to.”

“Go for it. I guess I’m going to be looking for something a little longer than the rest of her stuff.”

“Okay.” Finn gets his phone and calls Kurt. 

“Hello?” Kurt answers after two rings. 

“Kurt, we have a baby clothes emergency,” Finn says. “Nothing fits Beej anymore!”

“That does sound like a dire situation. I assume you’re requesting the assistance of Mercedes and myself?” Kurt says, sounding slightly amused. 

“Yeah, ’cause otherwise I think we’ll just buy pajamas.”

“Oh, I hate to picture what the two of you would buy. Are the three of you free tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’ve got a little tiny baby, so we don’t really do much,” Finn says.

“Mercedes and I will be there at ten,” Kurt says. “See you then.”

“Cool. Thanks, Kurt!”

“You’re welcome,” Kurt says before ending the call.

“Kurt says tomorrow,” Finn tells Puck. 

“Only one more day to be naked, Beth!” Puck says. “Awesome.”

“I guess we can just take her to Baby & Me in pajamas if we have to,” Finn says.

“There’s that one outfit that doesn’t snap. She can just show her belly a little, I guess,” Puck says with a shrug. 

“Uh-oh. She’s already practicing to be a Cheerio!”

“Well, she does have a nice loud yell,” Puck says. “No pom-poms for now, Bethie-girl.”

The next morning at ten, Finn and Puck have Beth dressed and ready in the living room, watching some TV while they wait for Kurt and Mercedes to arrive.

“Do you think he’ll buy her some little tiny baby blue jeans?” Finn asks. 

“She needs a little baseball hat,” Puck says. “And dresses because apparently she’s going to not be able to wear them when she starts crawling.”

“We could get her little princess dresses!” Finn says. 

“Like with crowns?”

“I don’t know if a crown would stay on.”

“Yeah, I don’t know either,” Puck admits with a shrug. “Maybe a headband-thing that looks like a crown.”

The doorbell rings, and Finn pops up to answer it. Kurt and Mercedes are both standing there with weird looks on their faces like they’re up to something. Kurt steps into the house without waiting, and he stops not too far inside the door, smiling at Puck and Finn in a still–weird way. 

“So, I guess it’s time for clothes shopping?” Finn asks. “My mom left her credit card for us to use.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Kurt says, waving his fingers at Mercedes and gesturing towards Puck and Beth. 

“Why not?” Finn asks, looking between Kurt and Mercedes, and then over at Puck. “What’s happening?”

“Oh, we’re just taking care of all this shopping business for you,” Mercedes says, plucking Beth out of Puck’s arm. 

“Huh?” Puck says, looking startled and watching Beth. “Where’re you taking her?”

“We’ll take care of the shopping and Beth,” Kurt says. “I assume she has an adequate supply of bottles and diapers in this?” He lifts the diaper backpack and looks questioningly at Finn. 

“You’re taking her? Like, _without_ us?” Finn asks.

“Precisely. You can do something without her,” Kurt says. “Play music loudly or eat corn on the cob.”

“Or sleep,” Mercedes says. “You two still look tired.”

“But…” Puck says, trailing off and looking confused. “I don’t— we can—”

“You heard us,” Kurt says, picking up the carseat as well. “Enjoy your day.”

“Do you know how to put a carseat in?” Finn asks.

“I practiced with my baby cousin’s,” Mercedes says. “We’ll see you back in time for dinner, at least.”

Kurt and Mercedes leave with Beth before Puck responds, and he stares at the door as he does. “Dinner? It’s ten!”

“We can sleep all day,” Finn says quietly. “We could sleep for _hours_.”

“It’s so _quiet_ ,” Puck says, turning off the TV. “Yeah. We could sleep. And eat. And sleep.”

“Do you want to sleep before we eat, after we eat, or _both_?”

“Both. Sleep, eat, sleep,” Puck says, standing up.

“Sounds good to me,” Finn says. 

They go upstairs and both flop onto the bed. Finn does have a brief thought that it’s weirder to lie down on the bed together when Beth’s not there, but not weird in a bad way, necessarily. Even without having to get up for school, he’s tired, and he knows Puck is tired, too, because Beth still wakes up a lot at night. Having a baby-free bed to sleep in is awesome, and Finn falls asleep before he can even think too long about how awesome it is.

Finn wakes up a couple of hours later feeling rested and comfortable. His arms are around Puck, his chin resting on top of Puck’s fuzzy head. Puck’s head is on Finn’s chest and his arms are wrapped around Finn’s waist. Finn stays perfectly still, because Puck is still asleep, and Finn’s not really sure what to do or say about this anyway. Also, it’s kind of nice.

Puck nuzzles against Finn’s chest, then stays still for another five or ten minutes before he starts to stretch and yawn. “Beth?” he mumbles, then shakes his head. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Finn says.

“Hey.” Puck shakes his head again. “Yeah, you’re kinda bigger than Beth, come to think of it.”

“Yeah, just a little bit,” Finn agrees. “Good nap?”

“Yeah.” Puck rolls away slightly, stretching again. “Kurt was right, we should eat something that requires two hands.”

“We should go get burgers. Big, messy burgers,” Finn says.

“Yeah. Or ribs.” Puck grins. “Burgers _and_ ribs!”

“Yeah, let’s do that!” Finn says. He starts to sit up, letting his arms drop and wiggling to disentangle himself from Puck. “Q Smokin’ BBQ?”

“Sounds good,” Puck says, sitting up and then standing up to stretch again. “This is so weird.”

“Not having Beth here? Yeah.”

“Yeah. It’s weird-quiet,” Puck says, digging through their shoes. “Also weird not to either be holding her or see her.”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “Nice to get a nap, though.”

“Well, yeah.”

“So…” Finn scratches his head and waits to see if Puck will fill in anything, like what he thinks about the waking up holding onto each other. 

“So, let’s go,” Puck says, heading for the stairs. 

“Yeah,” Finn says to himself. “Sure, let’s go.”

They drive to Q Smokin’ BBQ, where they eat ribs and barbecue sandwiches, plus mac n’ cheese and mashed potatoes. The server keeps bringing more food and drink refills, giving them strange looks for sharing off their plates. They each have different sauces, though, so sharing makes the most sense. 

“You want to get dessert here?” Finn asks.

“We should go get ice cream cones,” Puck says after a few moments of thought, shaking his head. “Cones would be hard to eat while holding Beth.”

“Yeah, that’s smart,” Finn says. He pays for their lunch and they head over to the Whippy Dip for ice cream. They sit on the hood of the car, leaning back against the windshield, eating their cones and enjoying the sun beating down on them. 

“I feel like we’re in an 80s teen movie,” Puck says after a few minutes. “We need cooler sunglasses.”

“The kind with the really big neon frames?”

“Or just some we didn’t buy at the RiteAid,” Puck says. “And maybe a second ice cream cone.”

“Nah, we should get something we can bring home with us, so we can have another nap before Kurt and Mercedes bring Beej back,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, good point.” Puck pops the bottom of his cone in his mouth and then starts licking off his fingers. For some reason Finn can’t quite identify, he can’t look away, and he keeps watching until Puck raises an eyebrow. “What is it?” he asks.

“Uh. Nothing?” Finn says, giving Puck a weak smile. 

“If you’re sure,” Puck says, swinging off the hood of the car. “Couple of pints?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Finn says. 

“I’ll get ’em,” Puck says, walking back up to the window and returning with four pints. “Figured we should get your mom one, and they’re cheaper if you get four,” he says with a shrug.

“Cool. We should go straight home so we can put them in the freezer,” Finn says. “And for the nap.”

Puck nods. “Mostly for the nap.”

“Yeah, the nap,” Finn agrees. 

Puck doesn’t really talk on the drive back to the house, but he has an almost smug-looking expression on his face, like he’s getting away with something. It might just be eating with two hands and getting to nap twice, though, so Finn doesn’t ask him why he’s making that face. 

When they get home, Finn sticks the ice cream pints in the freezer, pausing to ask, “Did you want some now?”

“Nah, let’s go ahead and nap,” Puck says after a moment.

Finn nods and shuts the freezer, following Puck upstairs and taking off his shoes before dropping down onto his side of the bed. Puck kicks off his own shoes and lies down, closing his eyes and letting out his breath. 

“Is it weird that I miss her?” he says after a minute or so passes.

“Oh, good, I thought it was just me!” Finn says. “I almost asked if we could call and get her back after the ice cream!”

“They probably think we’re partying or something,” Puck says, snorting at the end of the sentence. “Napping we can do with her, though.”

“Even though she takes up half the bed,” Finn says.

“I still haven’t figured out how she does that,” Puck says, rolling onto his side, his eyes still closed. “You’d think she’d be too small to take up so much room.”

“I think she has a force field bubble or something.”

Puck grins. “Jedi baby.”

“Tired you would be, if many bottles you must drink,” Finn says. “Sorry, that was a lame Yoda.”

Puck reaches out and pats Finn’s shoulder. “You can work on it.”

He’s still sort of patting Finn’s shoulder as he falls asleep, and Finn just shakes his head and lets himself doze off, too. When Finn wakes up, Puck’s face is pressed against his neck. Puck must have twisted in his sleep, because his T-shirt is riding up, and Finn’s hand is resting on the bare skin of Puck’s side. Finn strokes Puck’s skin with this thumb, startling when he realizes he’s doing it. 

“Are you awake?” Finn whispers. 

“Huh?” Puck mumbles into Finn’s neck. “Is it dinner?”

“No, I was just checking,” Finn says, resuming the movement of his thumb along Puck’s side. “You can go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” Puck says, exhaling against Finn’s neck, which feels more like blowing a raspberry. His breathing evens back out within just a couple of minutes. Since Puck is asleep, and didn’t seem like he minded, Finn keeps petting Puck’s side with his thumb, feeling Puck breathing against his neck.

Lying there with Puck all smushed up against him, Finn feels happy and content. After everything they’ve been through, it really does feel now, most days at least, like they’ve worked everything out. Finn loves Beth, and now that he’s really got a quiet few minutes to think about it, he doesn’t know if he could handle it if Puck and Beth ever left. The idea of Puck not being there gives Finn a pain in his chest, and as he continues running his thumb along Puck’s side, it occurs to him that he more than likes Puck. He more than bro-loves him, too. 

Puck has a little baby to think about, though. He’s got plenty of stuff to worry about between Beth and school and figuring out how to balance all of it. The last thing he needs is to worry about Finn being weird. Finn sighs and stops moving his thumb, because he doesn’t want to be one more complication in Puck’s life, not now anyway.

Eventually, Puck starts to stretch, his face moving away from Finn’s neck slightly. Finn gives Puck’s side one more light squeeze before taking his hand away and waiting for Puck to finish rolling away from him. Puck ends up on his back before his eyes open. “I don’t think I’ve felt this rested in months.”

“Same,” Finn says. “Want to eat some ice cream while we wait for Beej? And my mom, I guess.”

“Yeah, good idea. We should call Kurt and Mercedes and tell them we eat dinner super-early.”

“Maybe if I call Mom, she’ll let us have them over for dinner,” Finn says. “We could order Chinese!”

“Don’t tell her about how much we ate at lunch,” Puck says, grinning. “She’s more likely to give in.”

“I’ll tell her we slept all day.”

“We practically did,” Puck agrees, sitting up and smirking. 

Finn calls Kurt, and Kurt agrees that it’s time to bring Beth home. Finn can hear her screaming in the background, Mercedes trying to shush her.

“Carseat?” Finn asks.

“Does she really do this every time?” Kurt says disbelievingly. “We’ll go as fast as we can,” he adds before hanging up.

“As you _safely_ can!” Finn says, even though the call has already disconnected. He looks up at Puck. “She doesn’t like the carseat any more for them than for us.”

“That shouldn’t make me feel better about it, but it does,” Puck says, standing up and then heading down the stairs. “Since they didn’t take your mom’s credit card, you could order the Chinese now with it.”

“Oh, yeah, sweet!” Finn says. He quickly orders the Chinese food, guessing at what Mercedes likes, since he can’t remember if it was her or Kurt who likes Mongolian beef. Since he knows Kurt likes orange chicken for sure, though, Finn just goes ahead and orders both, plus Puck’s mu shu pork, Carole’s moo goo gai pan, and his own double order of steamed dumplings. 

Kurt and Mercedes arrive before the food does, and as Finn opens the front door, Mercedes is already attempting to shove Beth into his arms.

“Take her, please!” Mercedes says. “I feel like my eardrums are about to explode.”

“There she is,” Puck says, walking over and kissing the top of Beth’s head. “You were gone all day, Bethie-girl.”

“She was wonderful except for the car,” Kurt says, looking like he’s still suffering the after-effects of Beth’s carseat-induced screaming. 

“She’s our good girl,” Finn says, bouncing Beth, holding her a little higher when he realizes Puck is trying to take her away. “Did you miss us, Beej?”

“Did she drink all of her bottles?” Puck asks Mercedes and Kurt, still trying to grab Beth. “And she’s got that little bit of a rash, did you use the cream on it?”

“Did you remember her paci?” Finn asks. “Sometimes she’ll drop it, and if you aren’t paying attention, it’s just gone.”

“Good lord, you two,” Mercedes says. “Look at her. She’s fine. You two are bigger babies than she is.”

“She was gone all day!” Puck says.

“And she’s only got a baby-memory! She might have forgotten us!” Finn says, finally lowering Beth so Puck can take her.

“Do you think they realize how they look, fighting over a baby?” Kurt says quietly to Mercedes, but not so quietly that Finn and Puck can’t hear him. Puck stops with Beth mostly against his chest and makes a face at Kurt, then sticks his tongue out at both Kurt and Mercedes. 

“Don’t listen to them, Bethie-girl, Uncle Finn and I look perfectly normal,” Puck says.

“Oh yes,” Mercedes says. “When I think of you, normal is exactly the first thing that comes to mind.”

 

They manage to put off the meeting with Ms. Fabray for the first six weeks of summer, but Carole finally tells them they have to do it, “To make that woman stop calling me and crying.”

Finn would much rather spend his Saturday morning like they usually spend it now, having playdates for Beth with Bella and Ella, especially since Rebecca is a really good cook and Jodi plays guitar, so they have lot of stuff to eat and talk about. Instead of having a fun Saturday morning, though, they’re having to stuff Beth into one of the pretty dresses Kurt bought her, while Beth screams and makes her body go stiff so it’s almost impossible to bend her arms and legs.

“She’s just picking up on your stress,” Carole says as she passes by Finn’s bedroom door. “If you calm down, she’ll calm down.”

“I can’t calm down, because she won’t stop screaming!” Finn says.

“And I can’t calm down, because we can’t get her clothes on her,” Puck says. 

“Maybe you should step away for a second and take a breath,” Carole suggests.

“Mom, that’s not helping!” Finn says.

“Fine!” Carole puts her hands up in surrender. “I’ll just be downstairs, being the only person in this house who has raised a child to almost-adulthood!”

“You should call and cancel while you’re down there,” Finn calls after her, as she starts down the stairs. 

“Yeah, and I bet she never put you in a dress, either,” Puck mutters just loud enough for Finn to hear. 

“We’re not talking about that!” Finn says. “It was one time!”

“I’m pretty sure _you_ put you in that red monstrosity,” Puck says. “Oh, hey, one arm’s in!”

“Come on, Beej, work with your dad,” Finn says, patting Beth on her tummy. “You’re making his eyes all crazy.”

“My eyes aren’t crazy,” Puck says, looking away from Beth to make a face at Finn. “Oh, hey, you accidentally dressed yourself, Bethie-girl. You fought that sleeve so much you put it on.”

“Okay, so that means we can go? The sooner we go, the sooner we can come back and never have to do this ever again.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a great plan,” Puck says, nodding as he picks up Beth. “Why didn’t we figure out a place within walking distance?”

“Because Ms. Fabray said Sunfish and nobody wanted to argue with her,” Finn offers.

“I did want to argue, but you told me no,” Puck says, looking around the room in a clear attempt to stall. 

“Well, fine, I didn’t want to argue so we could just do it and be done with it,” Finn agrees.

“Boys!” Carole shouts. “We need to go!”

“If you wanted to throw up, now would be the time,” Puck whispers to Beth as they go down the stairs. 

“Come on, let’s get this over with,” Carole says, waving them in the direction of the door. “If you don’t like the food at Sunfish, we’ll stop for a pizza and some wings on the way home.”

“I just don’t see why it’s called Sun _fish_ if it doesn’t serve fish,” Finn says.

“Nobody understands it, Finn. Now go help Noah get Beth into the car, please.”

Beth starts screaming as soon as she sees the car, and screams louder than usual as Puck straps her into her seat. Finn and Puck both try to shush and calm her, but Beth just gets louder and louder as Carole drives them to Sunfish.

“C’mon, calm down,” Puck says to Beth once they park and he starts to get her out of her seat. “It won’t take too long, and then we’ll go home for the afternoon cooking shows.” 

“You know what, boys?” Carole says.

“What?” Finn asks.

“I say, let her scream. Judy Fabray wanted to meet Beth, right? She should meet Beth at her best, don’t you think?” Carole says.

“Mom, you’re so evil!” 

“Thank you, Finn,” Carole says. “I try.”

Finn laughs, but Puck doesn’t, and when Finn looks over at him, he notices that Puck has that kind of frozen look he’d had so much during Beth’s first couple of weeks, which sucks, since he hasn’t been looking like that for a while now. Finn puts his hand on top of Puck’s, which is resting on Beth’s tummy.

“It’s gonna be okay, and if we don’t like how it’s going down, we’ll leave,” Finn says. 

“Just, you know, she didn’t care for _how_ many months?” Puck says quietly as they walk towards the restaurant. “And then for how many weeks after that? Why now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Qui— Mr. Fabray got her riled up or something,” Finn says. “Or I don’t know. Maybe she feels guilty.”

Puck snorts. “Yeah, maybe so.” 

Carole parks outside the restaurant. “Now, do you want me to come or wait out here?”

“You probably should in case she tries to trick us,” Puck says.

“Yeah, I think she’s a little scared of you, Mom,” Finn says. “You can carry the diaper bag, so you look, like, official.”

“Official what?” Carole asks, shaking her head as they start to get out of the car.

“Official grandparent,” Finn says, since that should be obvious.

“This is just a bad idea,” Puck says very quietly to himself.

Carole puts one arm around Puck and gives him a brief hug. “We’ll make it through, and then you’ll never have to do it again.”

When they get into the restaurant, Ms. Fabray is standing by the door rubbing her hands together like she’s cold, which is weird since it’s hot outside. Carole gives Ms. Fabray a quick hug, before releasing her and asking, “Have you been waiting long?”

“Oh, no, not too long,” Ms. Fabray answers absently. “Oh, my goodness, she’s so big!” Her hands come up and she looks like she’s reaching towards Beth before she stops abruptly. 

“Yeah, she’s three months now,” Puck says tersely. 

“Oh, I guess that’s true,” Ms. Fabray says. She sniffs and sighs a little. “I can’t believe it’s been that long already.”

“Yeah, it’s gone fast for us, too, since, you know, we’ve been raising a _baby_ ,” Finn says. He knows it must sound just as rude as he means it to sound, because Carole narrows her eyes and shakes her head slightly. 

“I do appreciate your agreeing to meet with me,” Ms. Fabray says to Puck. “I think our table’s ready, so we should all sit down.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Carole says. 

When they’re seated at the table, a server puts a purple-grey paste and pita chips down in the middle of the table, along with glasses of water. Finn elbows Puck and nods his head at the paste. Puck shrugs. 

“Do you think they think Beth can eat baby food?” Puck whispers. 

“No clue,” Finn says. “And she definitely couldn’t eat pita chips. She doesn’t have teeth.”

“Boys, I think it’s some kind of hummus,” Carole says. “Or baba ganoush, maybe.”

“The baba thing sounds gross,” Finn mutters. 

Ms. Fabray takes a deep breath, like she’s steeling herself. “I have to admit, I was so surprised when I realized you’d decided not to go forward with the planned adoption.” She makes an effort to smile, but it doesn’t look like a smile as much as it does a grimace. “I know I couldn’t have even begun to consider taking her at that point. Beth is a lovely name, by the way. What’s her middle name?” Ms. Fabray says all of it in a rush, talking a little too fast.

“Juniper,” Puck says, somewhat defensively. 

“Yeah, I helped pick it,” Finn adds, crossing his arm over his chest and angling his body a little more towards Puck.

“Oh, that’s a nice name,” Ms. Fabray says, and she takes a sip of water before continuing. “I just wanted to have a chance to meet her.” She smiles at Beth and then looks back up at Puck. “She does favor Quinn, doesn’t she?”

“Not really,” Finn says. “I think she mostly looks like Puck.”

“I think she probably has her nose,” Puck says to Ms. Fabray, still looking somewhat uncomfortable. 

Ms. Fabray nods and looks at Carole, almost like she’s asking for help. “Well, I’m sure we can agree she’s a beautiful little girl,” Carole says.

“And stubborn,” Puck says quietly, mostly to Finn. 

“And how— are you finding school to be doable?” Ms. Fabray asks. 

“Yeah, the rest of the year went fine,” Puck answers after a few seconds, looking over at Finn briefly.

“Everything’s going good,” Finn says. “It’ll be fine next year, too.”

“You’ve found good childcare for her?” Ms. Fabray asks, and Puck shakes his head slowly. 

“We just took her with us,” he says. 

“The school didn’t have a problem with it,” Finn says.

“There’s actually a group of parents trying to get on-site childcare at McKinley,” Carole says. “I’ve gotten a lot of support, particularly from the other parents of the glee club members.”

Puck looks surprised, and he nudges Finn with his elbow. “Did you know that?” he whispers to Finn as Ms. Fabray says something else to Carole.

Finn shakes his head. “She never tells me anything.”

“Does that mean we _couldn’t_ take her to class? She likes Spanish,” Puck says.

“I don’t know. We can ask her later,” Finn says.

“Boys,” Carole interrupts. “Ms. Fabray was trying to ask Noah a question.”

“Oh, sorry,” Puck says, turning towards Ms. Fabray. 

“I wanted to know two things, I suppose. Is it okay if I send you some money, to help with Beth? And I’d like to roll Quinn’s college fund into one for Beth, too.” 

“Um.” Puck looks a little stunned before he pulls himself together. “Yeah, I mean, that’s fine. Thank you.” 

Ms. Fabray smiles. “I’ll mail you all of the paperwork, then.” 

The server comes to take their order then, and the rest of the lunch is just awkward conversation, mostly about things Beth likes and doesn’t like, and by the end of the meal, Ms. Fabray seems relieved to pay the bill so they can leave. As they’re walking to the door, Ms. Fabray gives Beth a longing look.

“Would you mind if I held her for just a minute?” she asks Puck. 

Puck looks conflicted, like he wants to say no but thinks he’s supposed to say yes, and he looks over at Carole instead of answering. Carole looks apologetically at Puck. 

“I’m sure just a moment would be fine,” Carole says.

Puck nods and carefully hands Beth to Ms. Fabray, who does hold her securely, and Puck backs up a little until his back is just a few inches from Finn. Finn puts his hand on Puck’s shoulder without really thinking about it. After a minute or so of holding Beth and cooing at her, which doesn’t really impress Beth at all, Ms. Fabray turns back to Puck to hand Beth back, looking startled when she looks at Puck and Finn.

“Oh!” she says, then smiles after a few more moments. “Thank you. And thank you, Carole, for facilitating today for all of us.”

“Of course, Judy. I’m glad I could help,” Carole says. “I’ll keep in touch with you.”

“Of course,” Ms. Fabray echoes, and she gives all of them a smile before walking away from the restaurant. 

Puck leans back into Finn’s hand on his shoulder, not making any effort to move towards the car. Finn shifts forward a little to hold up some of Puck’s weight, and they stand there until Carole looks at them oddly and says, “Boys? Don’t you want to come get some real food now?”

“Oh. Yeah,” Puck says, slowly moving forward. “All of that stuff was weird. I don’t mind mushrooms on my pizza, but I don’t want a mushroom instead of a beef patty.”

“Yeah, we’ll get meat lover’s pizza and some wings,” Finn says. “Maybe we’ll get double the bacon on half, double the pepperoni on the other half.”

“I think that sounds very reasonable,” Carole says. 

Puck manages half of a smile. “And a two-liter of pop.”

 

Finn isn’t sure how the day managed to feel so long, but by the time they’re finally laying Beth down in the middle of the bed to get her to sleep, he feels like he’s been awake for days. Puck looks like he feels even more tired than Finn, and even Beth is already sleepy-eyed.

“What a day, huh?” Finn says quietly. Beth blinks slowly, but doesn’t respond to his voice.

“Yeah.” Puck sighs. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to act about it,” he says a few moments later. “She was Beth’s mom, and I loved her, but I wasn’t _in_ love with her. You know?”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “I know. The whole thing’s just so weird. I mean, _I_ don’t know what to say, either. It sounds terrible, but if she was alive, you and Beth wouldn’t be here, and…” He shrugs and then rolls onto his side, putting a hand on Beth’s tummy as she starts to drift off.

“Yeah, maybe not. I like to think it was those first couple of hours, you know? Maybe I would have fought with Quinn after that.” 

“Maybe,” Finn says. “Maybe you would’ve still let me help you.”

“Yeah.” Puck’s quiet for at least a minute before he continues. “I hope so.”

“Me, too,” Finn says. He looks at Puck over Beth’s sleeping body, both of them propped up on one arm, with only a Beth–wide space between them. Puck moves his hand, putting it on top of Finn’s hand on top of Beth, and his fingertips curl around Finn’s hand. Finn looks down at their hands and smiles, then looks back up at Puck.

“Makes it easier,” Puck says softly. “A lot easier, you know?” He grins at Finn without waiting for a response, and then seems to lean in closer. Finn leans in, too, hoping he isn’t reading it all wrong. Puck’s grin gets a little wider, and then he kisses Finn almost gently, like if they kissed too hard it would wake Beth up or something. Finn returns the kiss with just a little more pressure, to let Puck know it’s what he wants, and they stay like that for a few breaths. Puck turns Finn’s hand palm up and intertwines their fingers as he pulls back from the kiss and grins again. “Yeah?” Puck says after a moment, squeezing Finn’s hand. 

Finn smiles back at Puck. “Yeah.”


	5. New Playbook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Throw out everything you know about balancing a baby, school, football, and relationships.

There’s a lot of kissing in some ways, but in others, there’s barely any kissing.

Puck hadn’t planned on that particular night. He hadn’t really planned on any particular night, even after he realized that yeah, he actually would like to kiss Finn, but something about seeing Judy Fabray had given him some closure, or at least he guesses that’s what they’d call it. Daytime TV talks about things like closure more than Puck’s ever heard the word before. It had seemed like the natural thing for him to do at that moment, the next step almost, even though it was a little more than that. 

Beth’s night-time wakings give Puck plenty of time to think, to think about how he’s been afraid, at first without realizing it, that Finn would find some girl at some point, and if he did, she’d definitely want Finn to spend less time with Puck and Beth. At first, Puck’d tried to pretend to himself that it was just about Beth and what Beth needed, but Puck had also realized pretty quickly it wasn’t just that. 

Puck’s not really sure what they are, and Finn doesn’t seem too sure, either. They haven’t kissed in front of anyone except Beth, not even Carole, which is why there’s barely any kissing, but when they are alone at home with or without Beth, there’s a lot of kissing. There’s a little more time without Beth than Puck had really thought there would be, but sometimes Kurt and Mercedes swoop in and take Beth with them for a few hours. That usually leads to both sleeping and kissing.

It’s _just_ kissing, too, which might, Puck admits, be a function more of the limited time they have than anything else. He can sometimes feel Finn hard against him when they’re kissing, and he knows Finn can feel him, too, but they haven’t done anything about it. 

They’re currently getting ready to leave, so even though it’s just the two of them and Beth, there’s no kissing, partially because they’re packing duffel bags and partially because Kurt and Mercedes are going to be there at any moment. Puck isn’t sure that he’s ‘supposed’ to keep playing football, but with a new coach coming in, maybe he can get noticed by an FCS school or a Division II school, even if the Big 10 isn’t exactly in his future. Anyway, it’s something he and Finn have always done, and at least for now, they have guaranteed babysitting during summer practices and tryouts. 

“We won’t be gone too long,” Puck informs Beth, who is sitting propped up against Finn’s leg. “So feel free to cause a little trouble.”

“You should chew on Kurt’s shirt a little bit. He’ll love that,” Finn says. 

“Just don’t tell him we said that,” Puck stage-whispers. “We need him to keep baby-sitting.” Beth looks up at Puck and grins, and Puck laughs. “I don’t know if that’s a grin or a smirk.”

“Until she gets teeth, I think it’s a grin,” Finn says. “It can’t be a smirk until you know for sure she could bite you.”

“Shh, no teeth yet, Bethie-girl,” Puck says as the doorbell rings. “There’s your playmates for the next few hours.” He goes to the door and opens it for Mercedes and Kurt. Kurt looks oddly excited until Puck realizes this is the first time they’ve babysat and not had to drive anywhere.

“Sorry we’re running late,” Kurt says, even though they’re not, but compared to being early like sometimes, Puck supposes they are. 

“My mom had all this stuff she wanted me to bring,” Mercedes explains. “It took her forever to get it sorted out.”

“We’re good,” Puck says with a shrug, walking over and picking up Beth long enough to give her a kiss and let Finn stand up. “Have fun, Beth.” 

“Oo-ah!” Beth shrieks at them, waving her arms.

“Yeah, oo-ah to you, too, Beej,” Finn says. “Be a good girl, and remember what we talked about.” He mimes chewing on his own sleeve, which just makes Beth wave her arms more.

Puck laughs and hands her to Mercedes before picking up his duffel bag. “Yeah, exactly!” he agrees, heading out the door with Finn behind him. “I still keep expecting to see the truck sometimes,” Puck admits, “even though it’s been, what, two weeks now?”

“Yeah. I like the Saturn, though,” Finn says. “Roof’s a little bit low, but it’s good. The air conditioning works better.”

“Anything works better than the windows rolled down,” Puck says. “You think this new coach is as good as they say she is?”

“Anybody’s got to be better than Coach Tanaka, right?” 

“Well, yeah, but there’s a difference between ‘winning at least one game’ and ‘winning season’, right?” Puck says with a shrug as they pull out of the driveway and head towards the school. 

“Guess we’ll see. She’s supposed to be really good,” Finn says. “I’ll just be happy if she smells better than Tanaka.”

“Yeah, that won’t be hard either,” Puck says with a snort. The locker room is about half-full when they get there, and Puck catches a few weird looks aimed in their direction. Probably more his than Finn’s, but since they’re standing together, it’s hard to tell. 

“Oh, hey, Puckerman,” one of the seniors says when he walks in a minute later. “Didn’t know you were playing this season.”

“Here I am,” Puck says with a shrug. 

“Surprised you didn’t bring the baby,” Karofsky calls out, and when Puck looks in his direction, Karofsky’s rolling his eyes. 

“Yeah, she could play his backup,” Azimio says, hooting laughter. 

“Yeah, and you can shut up or be the guy who plays the bench,” Finn says, scowling in Azimio and Karofsky’s direction. 

“Morons,” Puck mutters under his breath to Finn. 

“Loud-mouth morons,” Finn agrees. 

No one else says anything, though, at least not _to_ Puck or Finn, or where they can hear them, and then everyone heads out onto the field. Ten minutes into the practice, Puck can tell she’s way better than Tanaka, whatever half of the team was muttering about having a woman for a coach. 

“She’s good,” Puck says to Finn through heavy breaths as they pause between so-called warm-ups. “Maybe too good.”

“That just means we’ll be that much better, right?” Finn says, sweat dripping off his face as he leans forward, hands propped on his knees to keep him from falling over.

“I fucking hope so.” Puck shakes his head. “It’s a good thing we’re each only taking four classes and glee club.” 

“I want a semester of Napping 101,” Finn says. He shakes his head, too, and sweat flies off his face, some of it landing on Puck. 

“Ewww,” Puck says, making a face at Finn and wiping the sweat off, then laughing. 

“What?” Finn asks. “Did I get sweat on you? You didn’t like me to get sweat on you?” He wipes his hand over his face and then grabs at Puck with it. “Don’t get my sweat on you!”

“Nooo,” Puck says, still laughing and half-heartedly trying to dodge Finn’s hands. 

“And I’ll wait till you’re sleeping, and I’ll lean over you,” Finn says. “And then… I’ll _sweat_ on you.”

“Get a room!” someone calls, and Puck shakes his head, flipping them off, or at least gesturing in their direction.

“Already did,” Puck whispers to Finn as they line up to start the next exercise. 

Finn ducks his head, a little half-smile on his face. “Yeah,” he agrees.

The practice is exhausting and busy, without much downtime, and it’s not until the new coach—Beiste, she repeats again each time she talks to them as a group—dismisses them and they’re headed for the locker room showers that Puck notices someone that doesn’t look familiar at all. 

“Hey, is that blond kid new? Or did I forget someone?” Puck asks, nudging Finn’s side. 

“Which blond kid? The new one?” Finn asks.

Puck laughs tiredly. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Yeah, his name is… something with an S, I think. Ssss…omething.”

“Something New Guy,” Puck says, nodding, and when they walk past the new guy’s locker, Puck nods at him. “Hey, new guy.”

“Uh, hey,” the new guys says. “Evans. Sam Evans.” He holds his hand out. Finn looks at it dubiously.

“No offense, dude, but maybe we can shake after the shower?” Finn says.

“Oh, yeah, I guess we are all pretty sweaty,” Sam says, grinning at Finn and Puck. “You’re Hudson and Puckerman, right?”

“Yep,” Puck says with a nod. “Well, Finn and Puck. And I haven’t felt this gross all summer, which is saying something.”

“I think I’d take Beej spit-up over this,” Finn says.

“What’s a beej?” Sam asks.

“Our baby,” Finn says. “Okay, well, technically Puck’s baby, but kinda really our baby.”

“We didn’t bring her to practice,” Puck says, deadpan. “She’s too little for the helmets. Also, her name’s Beth, but Finn calls her Beej.”

“She answers to it,” Finn protests.

“You have a baby?” Sam asks. “Wow. How old is she?”

“Four months.” Puck looks around the locker room and shrugs. “You’ll probably hear about it. Or hear rumored versions.”

“Oh. Yeah?” Sam looks confused. 

“But you can ignore the rumors,” Finn says. “It’s not true. She doesn’t actually have any super powers. I’m pretty sure Brittany made that up.”

“Brittany’s one of the Cheerios,” Puck explains to Sam, then realizes that probably doesn’t really help. “The Cheerios are the cheerleaders. And Brittany’s in the glee club with us and Mike and— hey wait, where’s Matt?”

“I didn’t see him,” Finn says. “Hey, Mike!” he calls across the locker room. 

“Hey!” Mike yells back. “Good to see you! What’s up?”

“Where’s Matt?” Puck asks, hands cupped around his mouth. 

“Moved! His dad got transferred out of state!”

Puck drops his hands and shrugs a little. “Well, that sucks. So just us and Mike on the team.” 

“Oh, man, that means we’re down another person in glee, too,” Finn says, frowning. “Hey, Sam, you don’t sing, do you?”

“Sometimes,” Sam says, looking askance at Finn. “Why?”

“We have to have twelve members to compete,” Puck says. “We’re not exactly the most popular club. And now we’re at ten.” He almost goes ahead and tells Sam right there, that Beth’s mom is the other missing person, but they’re still standing in the middle of the locker room, and he’s sure some of them would just love to hear whatever Puck says about Quinn. 

“I bet Mr. Schue’ll have tryouts once school starts for real,” Finn tells Sam. “You should come try out.”

“Yeah, okay. I can do that,” Sam says. 

“Awesome.” Puck glances up at the clock. “Yeah, shit, we need to get showered, we have to get back home. Babysitters,” he says. 

“Oh, yeah, I totally understand,” Sam says. “Guess I’ll see you guys next practice.”

“Once we all recover from this one,” Puck says, nodding at Sam as they finish heading to their own lockers. “He didn’t even freak out too much about Beth,” Puck says quietly to Finn. 

“Yeah, that’s cool,” Finn says. “Maybe he’ll for real try out for glee.”

“We’ll get Mike to work on it, too. He didn’t say no, at least.”

 

By the fourth day of practice, Kurt and Mercedes must be bored with keeping Beth at home, because they announced that they’re going to endure the carseat and take Beth out for a bit, and not to expect them back until dinner time. 

“I still think they like eating dinner with us, time it that way on purpose,” Puck says to Finn as they get dressed after practice. 

“Yeah, ’cause my mom’s a good cook,” Finn says, then starts laughing. “Okay, she’s a good cook of like three things, but she’s a really awesome food orderer.”

Puck snorts. “Yeah, anything’s better than that weird pasta thing she tried last week.” He glances at the time and leans against his locker. “Ice cream and a nap?”

“See? This is why I love you!” Finn says. 

“I am awesome,” Puck says with a grin, picking up his duffel bag. “I’ll even drive you there.”

“It’s like a hot date or something,” Finn says, bumping his arm against Puck’s shoulder as he smiles back at Puck.

“Yeah, which is why you’re gonna have to practice driving more,” Puck says as they head into the parking lot, squinting in the bright sun. “You have to do that thing Kurt and Mercedes say— reciprowhatever.”

“But I like it when you drive!”

“Should I open your door for you?” Puck asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, that would be nice, actually,” Finn says.

Puck snorts and then laughs. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” he grumbles, but he does open the passenger door with an over-the-top flourish. “Satisfactory?”

“Yep. Thanks!” Finn says, sitting in the passenger seat. “Let’s go get our ice cream now!”

Puck closes the door, shaking his head, and then goes around to the driver’s seat. Finn’s not wrong, because it is a lot like a date. A short date that’ll end with both of them falling asleep instead of any kind of getting naked for sex reasons, but still a date. When they get to the Whippy Dip, Puck goes and gets their cones and then settles on the hood next to Finn, leaning against the windshield with his cone in his left hand. 

“At least we have better sunglasses now,” Puck says. “I mean, they came from the mall and not RiteAid.”

“Um. Actually I lost my mall sunglasses. These are the replacement pair I had my mom get me from RiteAid,” Finn says.

“They’re probably under the bed,” Puck says, nudging Finn’s arm with his and then leaving it there. “Along with the missing pacis and that damn Elmo piece of crap. If you find the sunglasses and the pacis, leave Elmo.”

Finn shifts his arm so the back of his hand rests against the back of Puck’s hand. “I tried to look under there, but the dust bunnies yelled at me to leave, so I left.”

“Dammit, if your mom looks, she’ll put Elmo back out. Remember, she thought it was cute.” Puck closes his eyes for a few seconds, running his index finger over the back of Finn’s fingers. 

“I hate that Elmo,” Finn whispers, taking an almost angry-looking lick of his ice cream. “It’s so creepy.”

“When school starts, we’ll smuggle it out and toss it or something. Goodwill.” Puck shakes his head. “We should have a no-Elmo rule. His voice annoys me.”

“Yeah, I don’t like him. I like Big Bird.”

“You kinda _are_ Big Bird,” Puck says.

“What’s that make you?” Finn asks. “Snuffleupagus?” 

“I do have awesome eyelashes, but they aren’t quite as long as Snuffy’s,” Puck says, nodding slowly. 

“They’re nice, though. Nicer than his.”

“His’d get in the way.” He turns his head to the side and looks at Finn. “Wanna finish in the car? We can head back home.”

Finn smiles. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Puck grins back at him before swinging off the hood. “Yeah, it does.” Driving with a cone is harder than not, but Puck figures some extra time is probably worth it. As Puck pulls out of the Whippy Dip, Finn rests his arm on the small center console, his fingers just touching Puck’s leg. Puck keeps grinning while they drive home, and even though there was no reason that Carole should be home early or for Kurt and Mercedes to bring Beth back before dinnertime, Puck still feels a little relieved as he parks and they head in. 

“Nap?” Puck says, shifting his grin into a little bit of a smirk as he washes the last of the cone off his hands. 

“Sure, we could nap if you want,” Finn says.

Puck heads up the stairs without bothering to look to see if Finn’s following, flopping down on the bed on his side. The bed shakes as Finn throws himself down next to Puck. Finn's hand immediately finds Puck’s, twining their fingers together.

“Tired?” Finn asks.

“Not really,” Puck admits, leaning towards Finn and kissing him softly. 

“Yeah,” Finn says, pulling away just enough to talk. “Me neither.”

Puck grins and squeezes Finn’s hand. “Good.” He kisses Finn again, this time parting his lips a little as they continue kissing. Finn’s tongue slips into Puck’s mouth, and Puck puts his other hand in Finn’s hair. Kissing Finn is different from everyone else Puck’s ever kissed, and for about twelve or eighteen hours after the first night, Puck thought it was just that Finn was the first guy he’d ever kissed. He’d realized pretty quickly that isn’t the reason, though. Puck keeps kissing Finn, slow and unhurried, like almost every time they kiss, and it’s the lack of expectation or feeling like they _have_ to hurry that makes it different. They don’t have to hurry to get to everything, because whatever it is they are, they have plenty of time for all of it. 

Puck shifts closer to Finn, bringing their chests together, and Puck knows it’s pretty dumb in August to think about liking how warm Finn is, through their T-shirts, but he likes it anyway. Finn puts his free arm across Puck’s back, pulling him even closer and holding him there. Puck feels Finn hard against him, and he kisses Finn a little harder as he realizes that they could do something about that. It doesn’t feel necessary, though, and Puck just presses himself against Finn’s body while they keep making out. 

Finn’s hand slides under Puck’s T-shirt, his fingers moving in slow circles against Puck’s lower back. Puck squeezes Finn’s hand again, almost resting his head on Finn’s arm, and his lips stay on Finn’s with only brief pauses for a long time. Puck’s not really sure how long they’ve been making out when he realizes there’s some loud knocking on the door downstairs. 

“Huh?” he mumbles against Finn’s mouth. 

“Knocking?” Finn asks, sounding almost drunk. “At the door?”

“Yeah.” Puck frowns then rolls onto his back. “Beth. Not Beth knocking. Kurt and Mercedes. I don’t think we’d hear Beth knocking.”

“Already?” Finn asks. 

Puck looks over at him and grins. “Time flies when you’re having fun?”

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. “I guess we should answer the door?”

“Yeah, probably so,” Puck says with a laugh, sitting up and then releasing Finn’s hand before standing. “They’re probably tired from the carseat screaming.” 

“Poor Beej.”

“Poor everyone in the car,” Puck says, opening the door and yelling “We’re coming” down the stairs before turning back and kissing Finn again once. Then he heads to the door and opens it. “Sorry, didn’t hear you at first.” 

“Yeaaah, right,” Mercedes says, rolling her eyes as she elbows Kurt.

“Napping,” Puck insists, taking Beth. “Hey, Bethie-girl, where’d you go today?”

“We went to Between the Sheets and looked at music,” Kurt says. 

“And you’ll never guess who we saw there!” Mercedes says, giving Kurt a pointed look.

“We agreed not to bring that up!” Kurt says, his face turning pink.

“No, _you_ agreed not to bring it up. _I_ told you I was going to tell them first thing,” Mercedes says. “It was that boy! The one from the fair.”

“With the glasses and the floppity hat?” Finn asks.

“Mmhmm. And Kurt got his number this time, too,” Mercedes says.

“Better text him and ask him out,” Puck says. “You can go, I don’t know.”

“Whippy Dip,” Finn says quickly.

“Yeah, ice cream!” Puck agrees. 

“I—” Kurt closes his mouth and gets even pinker. “Maybe,” he finally says.

“What’s his name? I can’t remember,” Finn says. “Candle?”

“Finn, Candle’s not a name,” Mercedes says, shaking her head. “His name is Chandler.”

“Do it now,” Puck insists. “C’mon, ask him about Sunday afternoon.”

“No!” Kurt says, looking horrified. “Not _now_.”

“Yeah, you should do it now,” Finn says, nodding along with his words. “We’re here for moral support.”

“Get his phone, Mercedes,” Puck says.

“You mean this phone?” Mercedes asks innocently, holding up Kurt’s iPhone. “Please, I’m not new. I took it in the car.”

“Okay, we gotta make this good,” Puck says, looking at Finn. “Make Chandler dying to say yes.”

“Please don’t sext him!” Kurt says, looking resigned otherwise.

“Tell him you like his hat,” Finn says. “Tell him it makes him look like, uhh… who’s somebody cute who wears a hat?”

“Mounties?” Puck says, frowning. Beth starts wiggling in his arms, so he hands her to Finn, making her grin again. 

“Hey, Beej! What do we say to boys that we like?” Finn asks her. “Do we say ‘ah-bah’ to them?”

“Ah-bah!” Beth repeats, flapping her arms excitedly. “Bah!”

“I don’t think you can text that to him,” Mercedes says. “Just say we were glad to run into him again, and would he like to go out with us on Sunday?”

“No, he’ll think it’s a friend-thing,” Puck says. “Gotta just be Kurt.”

“Just because you—” Kurt says, cutting himself off and then glaring at Puck. 

“Because I what?” Puck says, looking at Finn with a shrug. Finn returns the shrug. 

“Just because _you_ have shenanigans, Puck…” Kurt says, trailing off and shaking his head. 

“Shenaniwhats?” Finn asks.

“Kurt, you weren’t supposed to say anything!” Mercedes says, swatting at Kurt’s arm. “But hold on.” She returns her attention to the phone for a moment. “Sent!”

“Awesome, now we’ll all stare at the phone until Chandler texts back ‘yes’,” Puck says, heading towards the sofa.

“What about Puck’s shenaniwhats?” Finn says. “Somebody’s got to explain that.”

“Nothing,” Kurt says quickly. “Nothing about shenanigans.”

Puck shrugs. “I don’t know. Isn’t that something to do with St. Patrick’s Day?”

“Nevermind what Kurt said. He wasn’t supposed to say anything,” Mercedes says, sitting down on the other end of the sofa. 

“I’m lost,” Puck admits. “I haven’t seen any rainbows or leprechauns.”

“Why are we talking about leprechauns?” Finn asks. “I saw that movie. That was a really scary movie!”

Kurt starts laughing for some reason, and Mercedes laughs a little too, which is why Puck almost doesn’t hear Kurt’s phone announcing a new text message. 

“Answer!” he says, pointing at the phone, and Kurt instantly stops laughing, his eyes wide. 

“Oooh, it says it sounds great, and he can’t wait to see you, Boo!” Mercedes says. “You’ve got yourself a date!”

Kurt squeaks and then slowly starts to smile, and Puck grabs one of Beth’s hands. “Say ‘yay’, Bethie-girl!”

“Bah!”

“Close enough,” Puck says. 

“But for real, what’s the thing about the leprechauns?” Finn asks.

Before anyone can answer, the front door opens again, and Carole walks into the house. “Hello, everybody!” she says, then stops, tilting her head to the side in the mom-version of Finn’s confused look. “Why are all of you sitting around smiling at a phone?”

“Kurt has a date,” Finn says. “With a boy.”

“Oh, Kurt, that’s so nice for you,” Carole says, putting her purse down on the table. “What did your dad say about that?”

Kurt’s smile slowly fades and his eyes get wide again. “Oh. I have to tell Dad.”

“Oh dear, don’t worry,” Carole says. “I’m sure I can smooth things over with him. You’re seventeen years old. He can’t expect you to not go on dates.”

“See, Kurt? Mrs. H has got your back,” Mercedes tells Kurt, patting his shoulder. 

“Not a bad day, huh, Bethie-girl?” Puck says, still holding onto one of her hands. He looks up at Finn and grins. “And now it’s even dinnertime!”

Finn grins back. “But I still need to know about the leprechauns.”

 

After a couple of weeks of practices, formal tryouts, and then more practices with only the guys who officially make the team, Coach Beiste finally blows the whistle ending the last summer practice. Puck flops onto the grass next to Finn, most of the team on their backs as Coach Beiste starts to talk about the upcoming season. Puck’s arm lands closer to Finn than to Puck himself, the backs of their arms touching, and Puck decides not to move it away, smiling to himself for a few seconds and then pressing against Finn’s arm with a little more pressure. 

Puck lets his mind wander a little; they have four days before the first day of school, on the next Tuesday, and all Coach Beiste expects for those four days is two three-mile runs, which shouldn’t be too hard to finish. Puck tunes back in as Coach Beiste starts to finish talking. 

“…and like I said, no practice on the first day. Academics come first on this team,” she says firmly. “The practice schedule will be posted Wednesday morning for the first week or so.” She blows her whistle again. “Team dismissed.” 

Puck groans and rolls on his side to look at Finn, not even trying to stand up yet. “Shit, we can’t wait to get the schedule on Wednesday, and we can’t get it a week at a time,” he says. “The on-site daycare room’s only going to be open during class periods, so we have to tell Kurt and Mercedes and whoever.” Kurt, Mercedes, and Carole are still really the only people Puck _wants_ to leave Beth with, but the daycare people are supposed to be qualified, and he knows most of the glee club would do their best, at least. 

“We should talk to Coach before we go,” Finn says. “I don’t want to stand up, though.”

“Yeah, we’ll go talk to her in her office after we shower.” Puck sighs. “After we manage to stand up.” 

Puck does notice Mike and Sam talking once he and Finn finally shuffle into the locker room. “Hey, guys,” he says with a nod.

“Hey,” Mike echoes.

“What’s up?” Sam says.

“Mike talk you into glee club yet?” Puck asks. 

“I agreed to try out, but that’s all I’m promising,” Sam says.

“No, that means you’re in,” Finn says. “We’re kind of desperate.”

“Pretty much,” Puck says. “We gotta go talk to Coach Beiste before we leave, so see you Tuesday?”

“Sure, see you Tuesday,” Sam says, shaking his head and looking a little befuddled. As Puck walks away, he can hear Sam saying to Mike, “You didn’t tell me that part!”

Puck snickers as he exchanges a glance with Finn. “Way to go, Mike.”

Finn shrugs. “That’s eleven, at least.”

“Yeah. We’ll sucker someone else into signing up.” 

After they shower and get dressed, Puck and Finn head towards Coach Beiste’s office. When they stop outside her door, Puck can hear someone who sounds like Schue talking, and he knocks. 

“Come in,” Coach Beiste calls out.

Puck opens the door and nods at Schue as he walks in. “Hey, Mr. Schue. Coach Beiste.” 

“Hey, boys,” Coach Beiste says. “What can I do for you?”

“Hey!” Schue says enthusiastically. “Sorry, Shannon, give me a second?” He turns back to Puck and Finn. “How’s Beth? How’s it going?”

“I have pictures on my phone!” Finn says, fishing out his phone and frantically pressing things on the screen before holding it up. “See?”

“Oh, wow, she’s gotten huge!” Schue says. “I’ll see you all Tuesday. Shannon, I’ll let you get back to work, we can do lunch tomorrow, maybe with Emma.”

“Bye, Mr. Schue!” Finn says. 

“Yeah, see you,” Puck says, then digs in his bag for a minute before pulling out the calendar he had to give in and buy. He turns to Coach Beiste and opens it up. “We, uh, kinda need the practice schedule more than 24 hours ahead of time. And preferably more than a week at a time, if we can.”

“Okay,” Coach Beiste says, nodding slowly. “Is there a particular reason?”

“We have to line up babysitters,” Puck says somewhat apologetically. “I mean, we can’t just expect them to be on standby all the time.”

“Babysitters? Oh, the pictures Will was looking at?” Coach Beiste asks, then her eyebrows suddenly shoot up. “Oh! You’re Will’s students with the baby!”

“We’re famous,” Puck says to Finn.

“Just a little bit,” Coach Beiste agrees. “But sure, I can give you the schedule for the rest of the month, at least. After that, it’s subject to change. I’m sure you’re aware of the situation with the cheerleading coach here.”

Puck nods, grimacing a little. “Yeah, that’d be great. We shouldn’t have to miss practice, though, since we have willing volunteers,” he assures Coach Beiste.

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re still able to find time for extracurricular activities. Having a baby, that can’t be too easy!” Coach Beiste says.

“The baby part’s not too bad, but the sleep part can be hard,” Puck says after a moment. 

“I bet,” Coach Beiste says, nodding sympathetically. “Just let me know if there’s anything I can do to make the schedule a little easier on you… as long as it doesn’t involve cutting any corners come game time!”

“Absolutely. Thanks, Coach,” Puck says as he nods.

“No problem.” 

“Yeah, thanks, Coach,” Finn adds. Coach Beiste just smiles and waves at the door. 

Puck waits until they’re outside Coach Beiste’s office and the door is closed before he exhales. “That was easy,” he says to Finn. “What do you think Schue’s said?”

“That we’ve got a baby, I guess,” Finn says. “Which, that’s true.”

“Well, yeah, but he must’ve said good things, since she was so willing to work with us.”

“Of course he said good things. It’s _us_! Mr. Schue loves us!”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, I guess so.” He nudges Finn’s side with his elbow. “Wanna run by Whippy Dip? We can tell ’em that practice ran long.”

“I always wanna run by Whippy Dip,” Finn says. 

“Awesome,” Puck says with a grin. “Let’s go, then.”

 

The last four days before school go faster than Puck likes. They do one of their two runs on Friday morning, before Carole goes to work, which means they definitely need to nap when Beth does that day. Kurt has another date with Chandler on Friday night, so Puck, Finn, Kurt, and Mercedes all have lunch on Saturday, and Kurt reports on his date, blushing the entire time before concluding with the fact that he and Chandler did, in fact, kiss. When they press him for details, he admits there was no tongue, but they all agree with him that it still counts. 

By the time Puck and Finn are getting ready for bed on Monday night, earlier than they have since school ended at the beginning of the summer, Puck’s not even sure how they spent Sunday and Monday, except that Carole did take Beth out on a long walk on Sunday evening. 

“Not ready,” Puck whispers as they settle into bed. “Why am I whispering when your mom has Beth the first part of the night?”

“Habit?” Finn guesses. “This was a really good summer. Like, the best summer, even with some of the hard parts.”

“What were the hard parts?” Puck asks, confused.

“You know, like Ms. Fabray and stuff,” Finn says. 

“Oh, yeah.” Puck shrugs and moves closer to Finn. “I guess the good stuff just overpowered the bad stuff, you know?”

“Yeah. There was way more good stuff,” Finn says. He puts one arm around Puck. “I’m not ready for the summer to be over, either.”

“Yeah.” Puck pulls Finn to him and starts kissing him, mentally grinning at the thought that them making out is probably not why Carole said she’d take Beth until the first wake-up. Finn slips his other arm under Puck, then starts to roll, pulling Puck on top of him without stopping the kissing. Puck rolls his hips experimentally, shifting his weight as they kiss. Finn’s moan is muffled by the fact that he not only doesn’t stop kissing Puck, but kisses him harder. 

Puck grins against Finn’s lips and rolls his hips again, putting a little more of his weight into the movement as he drags his hips over Finn’s. Finn moans again and puts one hand on the back of Puck’s head, the other moving down to Puck’s butt and holding him close as Finn presses up against Puck.

They keep grinding and making out, and Puck thinks they should probably try to convince Carole to keep Beth for the first few hours every night. After a long time of kissing and grinding, Finn suddenly lets out a whiny noise, pressing his body to Puck’s even harder as he shakes slightly. Puck pulls his head back enough to look at Finn questioningly. “Did you just…?”

Finn’s face is a little red, and he bites his lip as he nods. Puck puts his forehead to Finn’s and grins. “Yeah? Awesome.”

“Yeah,” Finn says quietly. “Definitely awesome.” He runs his hands down Puck’s back a few times before continued, “Do you want to try, too?”

Puck laughs quietly and nods, then kisses Finn again as Finn grabs Puck’s butt with both hands and pulls him back down again to press against Finn. Puck roll his hips and kisses Finn harder, one hand in Finn’s hair and the other pressed against the sheets. He moves his mouth away from Finn’s, breathing fast with his lips next to Finn’s ear, and he comes as he rolls his hips a final time and then goes still. 

“Oh, wow,” Finn breathes. “That really was awesome.”

Puck nods, his head still to the side of Finn, and he slowly rolls to the side, pressing himself up against Finn. “I, uh.” Puck sighs. “I know it’s dumb, but I kinda need to ask you something.”

Finn’s eyebrows smoosh together in his serious look. “Okay.”

“You’re not, like… going to be looking or anything, right? At school?” Puck says. He’s tried to convince himself he’s just worried for Beth’s sake, and that’s not wrong, but it’s not just Beth. 

“Looking at what?”

“Uh. Girls. Or guys, I guess, but more I figured girls.”

“Hey,” Finn says, his eyebrows relaxing as he reaches out and his hand on the back of Puck’s head. “You know I love you for real, right? Like, I _for real_ love you, Puck.”

Puck studies Finn’s face for a few moments, then nods. “Yeah, okay,” he says quietly, then moves his head a little under Finn’s hand. Finn starts running his hand slowly over Puck’s head, petting him gently. Puck grins a little and then closes his eyes, letting the motion and the feel of Finn’s hand lull him to sleep. 

 

“I’ve decided it’s too early for the carseat,” Puck says to Finn as they leave the house the next morning. “Too early for the carseat screaming, too early for classes.”

“We can just go back to bed,” Finn agrees.

“Hire people to go to class for us?” Puck says, stopping in front of the car and wincing at Beth. “Sorry, Bethie-girl.”

“Do it fast, like a band-aid,” Finn says.

“You heard him,” Puck says to Beth, then leans in to strap her into the carseat. On cue, she starts screaming, and Puck gets into the driver’s seat as fast as he can. “I guess the daycare’s good and everything, but I’m still going to take her to glee club. And maybe Schue’s class.”

“I can pick her up before Spanish,” Finn says. “You get her for glee.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Puck says, trying to find the spot between ‘slow enough to be safe’ and ‘fast enough to minimize the screaming’, and that gets them to school within ten minutes. Beth stops screaming as soon as she’s out of the carseat, grinning as she looks around. 

“Do they know to get one of us if something happens?” Finn says. “I know you did that paperwork stuff, but they know they can get me out of class, too, right?”

“Yeah, you’re under ‘parent 2’,” Puck says, grabbing both of his bags plus the diaper backpack. “Which maybe we should get some kind of medical authority thing? I mean, usually we’re both around, but I guess it couldn’t hurt.” Puck passes Beth to Finn and slings the last bag on his shoulders. “I think we can get her at lunch, too.”

“So we’ll just get her for Spanish and then keep her until glee’s over,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, she won’t be there too long. I packed the powdered formula for them, though, they can deal with mixing it and keeping it sterile and all of that,” Puck says, ignoring some of the looks they’re getting as they walk in. 

“Beej, you’re going to big girl school!” Finn tells Beth. “That sounds fun, huh?”

“You’re such a liar,” Puck says to Finn, nudging him with his elbow. “I guess her room might be more fun, though.” The daycare room is just an old classroom, freshly painted and with thick rugs covering the floor, but it does have more toys, and Puck assumes they aren’t going to make the babies wait until a designated period to eat. 

“If she screams, we’ll just bring her to class with us,” Finn says.

“Yeah, she did fine last year.” Puck stops near the door of the daycare room, frowning. “What do you think, Bethie-girl? You want to stay here?”

Finn turns Beth around so she’s facing Puck, and starts talking in his Beth voice. “No way, dad! I want to go to math with you!” Beth laughs and squeals, kicking her legs. 

“Math’s not too bad, just stay here instead of going to US history,” Puck tells her as one of the daycare workers approaches and takes the diaper backpack, and Puck signs Beth in. 

The worker turns to Finn and Beth, holding her hands out for Beth. Finn hesitates for a moment before putting Beth into the daycare worker’s arm. Puck watches Beth’s face, but she just looks around the room, grinning and chewing on her fist. 

“Have fun, Beth,” he says, feeling unsettled. 

“If you need us, just scream,” Finn says.

“We’ll be back after the bell rings a few times,” Puck adds. “And you’ll eat lunch with us.”

“So don’t worry. We’re just down the hall,” Finn continues. 

They stand there looking at Beth for a few minutes before the daycare worker shakes her head. “She’ll be fine here, and we have all of your contact information. You can go to class.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck says, walking slowly out of the room and looking over his shoulder as long as he can before they’re in the middle of the hall, and he frowns. “This is weird.”

“I know. I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, me either.” Puck looks toward the daycare room again. “But since it’s here, I bet most teachers won’t like it if we take her to class. It’s not like she’s going to interfere with grammar or something.” 

“She might learn to talk if they let her take an English class,” Finn says.

“Yeah, exactly!” The bell rings, and Puck sighs. “Yeah, okay, I guess we should go to class. Remind me again why I stopped skipping classes?”

“To be a good role-model for Beej,” Finn says. “Or because you were afraid the baby police would come take her away.”

“Yeah. That. And ’cause getting paid to clean pools that mostly wasn’t about pool cleaning seemed kinda weird once I had a baby.” Puck shrugs. “At least we probably won’t fall asleep in class today.” 

Puck spends most of the first three class periods checking his phone obsessively, in case the daycare people text him, but the only thing his phone tells him is that Amazon has new recommendations for him. By the time Puck walks into Schue’s classroom, Finn’s already there with Beth, and Puck grins at them as he sits down. 

“Hey, Bethie-girl! You have a good time?” He looks from Beth to Finn. “She wasn’t crying or anything, right?”

“Nope. She was happy to see me, though,” Finn says. “She put her arms out.”

“Well, yeah,” Puck says, taking one of Beth’s hands and grinning at her. “You wanted to go see Uncle Finn, didn’t you? And we’ll have lunch and then go sing.” 

“Of course she did, ’cause she’s my girl,” Finn says. “I bet she wants to see you, though.” He shifts Beth over so she’s balanced between his leg and Puck’s leg, sitting on both of them. 

“You gonna tell me about your morning?” Puck asks her as he lets go of her hand and grabs her instead. “Were the toys good enough?” Puck grins at Finn as Schue walks in and starts class. The first day doesn’t cover much, like Puck expected, and after class lets out, the three of them find a relatively quiet corner for lunch before heading to glee club. 

They beat everyone else there, so Puck puts out a blanket for Beth to lie on her stomach for a few minutes. “Remember, no bald spot,” he tells her.

“She seems pretty good so far,” Finn says. “Her hair’s just getting curlier and curlier.”

“Sorry, Beth,” Puck says with a little shrug. “The curls are gonna stick around.”

“You could grow your hair out, too,” Finn says.

“Why?” Puck asks incredulously. 

“So you could match,” Finn explains. “I mean, she’ll still be kind of blonde, but you’d both be curly. It would be cute!”

“Cute,” Puck repeats. “Don’t tell me, you’d want a lot of pictures of that.”

“I don’t need pictures of it. I could see it every single day!”

“But you’d better get pictures, too,” Mercedes says, walking into the room with Kurt’s arm linked in hers. “Because I’m making that the wallpaper on my phone.”

“Is this some kind of conspiracy?” Puck asks. 

“It’s the first _I’ve_ heard of it,” Kurt assures him. 

“We don’t need a conspiracy,” Mercedes says. “We have _taste_.”

“I don’t think me with curly hair is in good taste,” Puck says, shaking his head. 

“I think you’d better let me and Kurt be the judge of that,” Mercedes counters. “Beth can rock the curls, so maybe her daddy could, too.”

Beth squeals and waves her arms at Mercedes when she hears her name, then yells, “Bah! Oooh-ah!” in Mercedes’ direction.

“They’re all crazy,” Puck says to Beth as he picks her up and lifts her in Mercedes’ direction. “Don’t listen to their crazy hair talk.” Beth pats Mercedes’ face and blows raspberries in response.

“That’s right, Miss Beth,” Mercedes tells her. “We know what’s up, don’t we?”

The rest of the glee club walks in before Puck can try to convince them him with curly hair is _not_ a good idea, including Sam trailing behind Mike. 

“Hey, Sam,” Puck says, hoping to derail the hair conversation completely.

“Hey,” Sam replies. “Mike said I had to come today, so here I am.”

Puck smirks. “Good job, Mike.”

“Yeah, yay Mike!” Finn says. “Now we just need one more person.”

“There’s always ben Israel,” Kurt says, but he makes a face indicating disgust with the idea. 

“Shhhh. Don’t say gross stuff in front of Beej!” Finn says.

“I’m confused,” Rachel says, looking at Beth and then at Puck. “I thought that they were providing a daycare room this year.” 

“Yeah, but there’s no reason Beth can’t hang out in here,” Puck says, raising an eyebrow until Rachel nods and sits down without saying anything else.

Schue walks in after that, smiling at all of them and clasping his hands in front of him for a moment before dropping them and speaking. “Welcome back, everyone! It’s so good to see all of you.” He scans the room and then stops when he sees Sam. “Not that it’s not good to see you, too, but maybe you could introduce yourself?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m Sam Evans, and I just moved here over the summer,” Sam says. “I kinda got roped into this by Mike, Puck, and Finn. I’m on the football team with them.”

“Oh, hey, great job then, guys!” Schue says. “Well, welcome, Sam. Glad you’re here. Does anyone have anything important to share with us?” Finn raises his hand, and Schue nods. 

“Kurt has a boyfriend,” Finn announces. “His name is Chandler. He wears a hat.”

“Finn!” Kurt hisses, and Puck stifles a laugh at the way Kurt’s starting to blush. 

“What? It’s true!” Finn insists. 

“I just don’t think that’s the kind of thing Mr. Schuester meant,” Kurt says weakly.

Mercedes looks up at Finn from where she’s bouncing Beth on her knee. “Oh, are we gonna play it like that?”

Finn turns a little red and says, “Uhh.”

“I didn’t think so,” Mercedes says. “You just watch it.”

Schue mostly looks confused, and he claps his hands a few times. “Okay, well, back to glee club business. We’ve got a good start here with Sam, but we need to be looking for a few new members. I was thinking about a performance in the courtyard during lunch one day.”

 

Almost two weeks into school, Puck is pretty certain that lunch is going to be his favorite part of the entire day for all of their junior year. Mercedes and Kurt find their quiet corners some days, and Puck’s just handed off Beth to take his turn at eating lunch when Mercedes and Kurt sit down across from him and Finn. 

“Finn, Puck,” Mercedes says, folding her hands on the table and leaning forward with a serious expression. “This is an intervention.”

“A what?” Puck says, putting his spoon down and frowning at Mercedes before exchanging a glance with Finn. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with making the daycare room use the powdered stuff.”

“We’re not talking about Beth,” Mercedes says. “We’re talking about _you_. The two of you.”

“What about us?” Puck says, picking up his spoon again. 

Mercedes looks over at Kurt. “Back me up here,” she says.

“We know about the two of you,” Kurt says almost delicately. 

Puck looks over at Finn, who shrugs and shakes his head. Puck looks back at Kurt and Mercedes and shakes his head. “What about us?”

“About the two of you,” Mercedes says, “together.”

Puck squints at Mercedes, glances at Finn, and then blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, which ends up being “How?”

Mercedes raises an eyebrow. “Because I have eyes.”

“In the bedroom?” Puck says, because apparently he’s still blurting out whatever comes to mind first. 

“We did _not_ need to know that,” Kurt says with a sigh. 

“Do you have, like, _cameras_?” Finn asks, wide-eyed.

“No, we don’t have cameras!” Mercedes says. “Good lord.”

“Then I’m still back on ‘how’,” Puck says. “And wait, ‘why’, too. Why is it an intervention?”

“It seemed like you should be aware that it’s somewhat obvious,” Kurt says. 

Mercedes nods her agreement. “Yeah, if you don’t want people to know, you should probably pay more attention to how you’re acting.”

“Oh,” Finn says, looking at Puck, his eyes still wide. “I don’t know if we do or not.”

“Huh.” Puck isn’t sure what to think, since of all the things people _could_ discuss, about him and Finn and Beth, the idea of people talking about the him-and-Finn part of it hadn’t really occurred to him period. “Yeah, kinda hadn’t thought about that.” 

“I’m fairly sure your mother knows as well, Finn,” Kurt adds. 

“Huh?” Finn asks, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so. She hasn’t said anything.”

“She wouldn’t _confront_ you or anything,” Kurt says. 

Puck takes a bite of his lunch to give himself a chance to think. Carole might not know, but then again, she has been taking Beth until the first feeding, most nights. And Puck’s not sure how, exactly, they’re obvious, but if Kurt and Mercedes figured it out, then Carole could have. 

“Well, okay,” Puck says slowly. 

“We just thought it was time you knew that we knew,” Mercedes says. “We’re not going to go around telling people, but didn’t seem right to keep it to ourselves.”

“It’s understandable if you want to minimize the amount people are talking, or to go in the opposite direction,” Kurt says, “but obviously you need as much information as possible to make that decision.”

“What decision?” Finn asks. “I don’t understand.”

“I think he means if we want to make people think we’re, I don’t know, cruising the Cheerios or something,” Puck says, shrugging, and then he turns to Mercedes and Kurt. “Thanks, I guess.”

“So, we’re good here?” Mercedes asks. Puck shrugs again and nods. “Good. Now hand me that baby.”

 

Puck spends the weekend trying to figure out if Kurt’s right, that Carole has them figured out, and a little bit of time at school on Monday trying to figure out if Kurt and Mercedes are right about that, too. He’s not sure, but even if everyone at McKinley hasn’t figured it out, Kurt and Mercedes still did. 

He waits until Carole’s taken Beth for the first part of the night before bringing it up. “Do you think that’s why your mom’s been taking her?” Puck asks. “Because she figured us out?”

“Why would my mom take Beej so we could make out?” Finn says. 

“I don’t know. Maybe she feels sorry for us?” Puck says. “You think we’re as obvious as they think?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t trying to _not_ be obvious or anything.”

“Yeah. I figured our business is our business, right? I mean, we probably shouldn’t be making out in the locker room or anything,” Puck says. 

“Right, but I wouldn’t make out in the locker room with _anybody_ ,” Finn says. “It’s gross in there.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, bad example.”

“So, we just shouldn’t say anything?” Finn asks.

“What do you want to do? I mean, apparently people are gonna figure us out even if we don’t say anything.”

Finn shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think about what other people would think about it.”

“They’ll probably think…” Puck trails off. “I don’t know what they’ll think, actually.” He snorts. “Maybe that it explains a lot.”

Finn frowns, his eyebrows smooshing together in a worried look. “What? What’s it explain?”

Puck shrugs. “Why we’re both raising Beth. Why… I mean, I don’t know, maybe even last year.” He’s not sure it does, but doesn’t sound impossible, either. 

Finn’s frown deepens. “What about last year?”

“Uh, the whole thing?” Puck says, waving his hand in a circle. “You know, Beth, et cetera.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t know, I’m not Freud or anything,” Puck says with another shrug.

“I don’t know what that means,” Finn says. “So, tell people or don’t tell people or what?”

Puck laughs. “Come here,” he says, flopping on his back on the bed and holding out his hand. Finn takes Puck’s hand, and Puck pulls him down, putting his other hand on the back of Finn’s head and kissing him. “How about, we act how we want to act, and if someone is nosy enough to ask, we’ll tell ’em, but otherwise they can just assume whatever they want to assume?”

“So pretty much exactly how it already is?” Finn asks.

“Maybe with a little more kissing outside this room,” Puck says. “Did you want me to explain the Freud thing or not?”

“Is he the guy who married his mom?”

“No, the psychology dude.” Puck makes a face. “Someone married his mom?”

“Yeah, somebody did. I don’t remember who.” Finn shrugs. “I’m cool with more kissing outside the room, though.”

“It’s like a subconscious desires thing or something.” Puck shrugs and then grins at Finn. “You’re just cool with more kissing.”

“Maybe I subconscious desire it,” Finn says.

“I’m pretty sure you conscious desire it,” Puck counters, still grinning. 

“Yeah, that, too,” Finn says. “So we should do more of that right now.”

Puck laughs again and doesn’t bother responding, pulling Finn’s head down again and kissing him hard. After a few minutes, Puck pulls away, their foreheads touching. “Whyever your mom keeps Beth at night a few hours, I hope she keeps doing it.”

 

Finn’s mostly right that nothing much changes, and no one says anything to them directly or asks. There’s still not a lot of kissing outside the room, but that has more to do with being tired, Puck thinks. Beth’s not waking up as much now that she’s older, but they still have classes, practices, homework, and a baby, which is one more baby than everyone else they know, and more practices than most people they know. 

Usually Puck or Finn gets Beth ten or fifteen minutes before the end of school, just so she’s not going straight from the daycare room to a babysitter without seeing them at all, and it’s almost two weeks since Mercedes and Kurt had their intervention when Puck, Finn, Beth, and Kurt are all outside the locker room. 

“The daycare people said she didn’t really nap this afternoon, so after her bottle, she’ll probably sleep,” Puck tells Kurt. 

Kurt nods and reaches for Beth, but before they can hand her over, Karofsky bumps into Kurt’s shoulder. Karofsky glares at Kurt and says, “Watch it, homo.”

“No, _you_ watch it!” Finn says, stepping in front of Kurt. 

“Just ignore him, Finn,” Kurt says, glaring at Karofsky. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I upset your wet nurse?” Karofsky asks. Azimio walks up beside Karofsky and laughs.

“Just go in the freaking locker room and leave us alone,” Puck says with a glare. He’d feint toward them, but he’s holding Beth, which means that the four of them are at a disadvantage against the other two. 

“I bet he wishes _he_ were in the locker room,” Karofsky says, and Azimio laughs again. 

“Yeah, you can tell by looking at him,” Azimio says, making a face at Kurt. “Too girly, he must want in there.” 

“Shut your mouth, Azimio,” Finn says. “Nobody wants to see _you_ in the locker room.”

Azimio makes kissing noises in Kurt’s direction and then in Finn’s before laughing at himself. “I bet he would!” he says. “Too bad for him that the locker room is one hundred percent heterosexual.”

Finn looks honestly confused, and he laughs a little at Azimio while shaking his head. “For real? Like you for real think that?”

Azimio narrows his eyes at Finn. “You coming out to me, Hudson? I’m honored.” He laughs like he’s told a good joke. “No one in there is kissing any boys.”

Finn keeps laughing, harder now. “Uh, dude. I kiss boys all the time. Boy. I kiss _boy_ , just the one, but for real all the time.”

“Not in class, though,” Puck says with a shrug. 

“All the time not in class,” Finn agrees. “Or in the locker room, because it’s gross in there and it smells.”

Azimio stares at Finn, then at Puck, while he elbows Karofsky. “Dave, are you hearing this?”

Karofsky doesn’t answer. What he does is stand there with his mouth hanging open, blinking slowly as he keeps looking between Finn, Puck, and Kurt. 

“Just to clarify, Finn meant me,” Puck says after a few moments of silence. “In case you were confused.”

“If they’re confused, they’re blind,” Kurt mutters.

“You’re— you’re—” Karofsky stutters, then he shakes his head. “You’re gay,” he finally finishes, then abruptly turns and walks away.

“I can’t tell if he was trying to insult us or what,” Finn says quietly, leaning towards Puck. “Was that an insult?”

Puck shrugs. “I dunno. It’s not entirely accurate, either, but I guess it was a lot to assimilate.”

Azimio keeps standing there, staring after Karofsky for a long time before looking at Puck and Finn. “Fucking homos,” he mutters, then walks away from the locker room, too. 

“Well, that was kind of weird,” Finn says. 

“Super weird,” Puck agrees. “And Coach Beiste’ll be mad they’re skipping practice. Bethie-girl, we have to go play football now, so have fun with Kurt, okay?”

“Ah-gah!” Beth squeals, then blows raspberries while she waves her hands at Puck.

Kurt takes Beth and smiles at her. “We’ll have plenty of fun.” 

Puck watches them walk down the hall, then turns to Finn and shrugs. “I guess that’s out in the open now, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Finn says, grinning at Puck. “That’s okay?”

Puck laughs. “Yeah. Still not kissing you in the locker room, though.”

“No way. It stinks in there,” Finn agrees.

“Probably could in glee club, though,” Puck jokes, nudging Finn’s side with his elbow as they walk into the locker room, and just before they get to their lockers, Puck takes Finn’s hand and squeezes it once. 

“Mr. Schue might argue with that,” Finn says. “But I’m good!”

 

The last football game in September is a home game, and instead of just Burt, Kurt, and Mercedes sitting with Beth and Carole, Jodi and Rebecca bring Ella and Bella, too. The three babies look like a line of ducklings, bundled up and sitting facing the field. 

Karofsky is weirdly silent in the locker room, just like he has been since the day in the hallway, but he also has stopped harassing Kurt, and Puck’s mostly sure Kurt’s not lying about that. When they go out onto the field again, all three girls look like red-cheeked ducklings, but they’re all three grinning at least. 

“Did you guys find more babies?” Sam asks, gesturing up at the stands.

“Yes, we found all the babies,” Finn says. 

“They’re Beth’s baby-friends,” Puck says. “Ella and Bella.” 

“Ella and Bella?” Sam asks. “No Stella, though?”

“Of course not,” Finn says, making a face. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Oh, sure,” Mike says, looking like he’s having a hard time keeping a straight face. 

“They like football,” Puck says. “Or, well, Beth likes it. And Jodi and Rebecca do, too.”

“Obviously. What’s not to like?” Sam says, still looking kind of baffled by the whole conversation.

“You two are so _old_ ,” Mike says, finally laughing. 

“Hey! I’m not old!” Finn protests.

“You have couple-friends and your kid has baby-friends,” Mike says. “Old.”

Puck frowns. “How does that make us old?”

Mike keeps laughing and looks at Sam, like he expects Sam to explain it. Sam shrugs and says, “Well, they don’t have a minivan, so that’s something.”

“I wanted one, so we could carry my drums around, but Puck said no,” Finn explains. “He said no station wagon, either.”

Puck nods. “Yeah, and there was no way I could afford an SUV or something.” 

Coach Beiste blows her whistle for her pre-game talk after that, so they abandon the conversation, and Puck consoles himself with the fact that they don’t have a mortgage or ties either. After the game—a McKinley win—Puck and Finn talk to Jodi, Rebecca, Bella, and Ella for a few minutes, then get Beth from Carole and head out to the Kewpee with Kurt, Mercedes, and some of the guys from the team, including Sam and Mike. Puck is pretty sure Sam’s got a crush on Mercedes, even if Mercedes hasn’t seemed to pick up on it yet. 

When Mercedes gets up for a few minutes, Puck raises an eyebrow at Sam. “You gonna ask her out?”

“Huh?” Sam says.

“You keep watching her. Back me up,” Puck says to Finn. “You’ve noticed, right?”

“Yeah, dude, you need to ask her out and get a yes or a no, ’cause otherwise it’s getting creepy,” Finn says, nodding in agreement.

“Oh. Yeah, okay, I guess I should do that, then,” Sam says. “You think she’ll say yes?”

“Oh, I think you have a high probability of success,” Kurt says with a small smile, just as Beth chimes in with “Ah-bah!”

“I guess if Beth thinks I’ve got a chance,” Sam says. “Wish me luck, Beth.”

Beth lets out an excited screech at her name, and when she doesn’t stop making happy screeches, Puck laughs. “And that’s our cue to go to bed.”

 

“Halloween’s in a week,” Puck says. “You’ve got to get your Leia costume together, you know.”

“Nope,” Finn says. “Not gonna happen.”

“C’mon, we have Beth’s Yoda costume and I’m gonna be Han, it’ll be great.”

“I don’t see why _I_ can’t be Han,” Finn grumbles.

“Because you’re taller. And you have better hair.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Finn says. “That means I should be Chewbacca, not Leia.”

“You think Han and Chewie were doing it?” Puck asks with a grin. 

“I don’t think Han and Leia were doing it, either,” Finn says. “Not until after the movies.”

“See?” Puck says. “It works.”

“No, it doesn’t!”

“We’re kinda at the same point,” Puck points out with a shrug. “Shh, Beth,” he adds, looking at Beth on the living room floor, “don’t listen to this part.”

Finn frowns. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, we’re not doing it,” Puck says. “Except I’m awesomer than Harrison Ford.”

“Oh,” Finn says. He sits there for a minute, looking worried. “Do— do you want to be doing it?”

“Do you?” Puck asks. “I mean, assuming we didn’t get interrupted by Beth or something.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know if you did or not.”

“So you only do if I do?” Puck says, grinning a little. “You’ll just put up with it for me?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Finn says.

“I’m just kidding,” Puck says, nudging Finn’s side. “Maybe we should start with getting naked not in the locker room.”

“Yeah, that would be cool,” Finn says, giving Puck a smile. 

“And without traumatizing Beth or your mom,” Puck adds, grinning back at Finn. 

“Yeah, nobody should be traumatized,” Finn agrees. They keep watching TV for a little longer, Beth playing on the floor and Puck leaning against Finn, before Puck hears Carole pull up, returning from a date with Burt. 

When Carole comes in, Puck can immediately tell by the look on her face that something’s up. She drops her purse and keys on the table and sits down on the end of the sofa, smiling widely, one hand resting on top of the other on her lap.

“Boys, I have something to tell you,” she says.

“It’s not another baby, is it?” Finn asks. 

“Finn!” Carole says, swatting at him. “No, it’s not. It’s this.” She holds her left hand up to display a ring with a small blue stone in it. 

“Your hand?” Finn says.

“I think she means the ring,” Puck says quietly. 

“Oh. Yeah, that’s really pretty, Mom,” Finn says. “Was it a present from Burt?”

“Finn,” Carole says. “It’s a ring on the ring finger of my left hand. What kind of ring do you think this might be?”

“A… blue one?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s an engagement ring,” Puck says to Finn. “Left hand and all of that.”

Finn squints at the ring. “But it’s blue.”

“It’s a blue sapphire,” Carole says, holding it up so it catches the light. “Kurt helped him pick it out. Princess Diana’s engagement ring was a blue sapphire, too.”

“Hey, he didn’t say anything,” Puck says, frowning. “And we haven’t bugged him about Chandler in weeks.” 

“He apparently promised Burt he’d keep it a secret,” Carole says.

“So wait,” Finn says. “You are Burt are getting married?”

“Yes, Finn,” Carole says. “Burt and I are getting married.”

“Oh, cool.” 

Puck keeps frowning. “Both houses are kinda small to add more people,” he says finally. “I don’t think Kurt would like a dining-room bedroom.”

“We decided there’s not a rush to get married, so we’ll probably wait until after Christmas,” Carole says. “And we’ll look for a new house that will fit all of us, as long as that’s okay with everyone.”

“Can we have our own bathroom?” Finn asks. “’Cause I bet Kurt takes a really long time to get ready in the morning.”

“And that way no one else’ll trip over the baby tub,” Puck says, nodding. 

“Exactly,” Carole says. “We’ll find a place to fit everybody’s needs. I think it’ll be nice for Beth, having even more family around.”

“Hey! Can Beth be the flower girl in the wedding?” Finn asks.

“She can’t walk yet,” Puck points out. “When’s the wedding?”

“You could pull her in a wagon,” Finn argues.

“February. Probably some time around Valentine’s Day,” Carole says. “And of course Beth can be the flower girl. We’ll figure it all out.”

Puck snorts and looks at Finn. “What does that make me? The flower man?”

Carole starts to laugh, which attracts Beth’s attention. Beth starts to do her combo roll/army crawl in Carole’s direction, screeching at her excitedly. Carole leans over and picks Beth up.

“Do you like that idea, Beth? Your dad is the flower man?” Carole asks. Beth shrieks again, grinning widely. “Oh my goodness, you two!”

“What?” Puck asks.

“I think our little Beth has her first tooth!”

“Awesome,” Puck says. “Now she’s ready for steak!”


	6. First Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding, a competition, and a birthday.

Kurt and Beth look frazzled as Kurt walks really quickly down the hall towards Finn, Beth crying in his arms and still dressed in her costume from the halftime show. “Finn,” Kurt says almost desperately. “I am not who she wants right now.” 

“Oh no, Beej!” Finn says, putting out his arms for Beth. “What’s the matter?”

“She just wasn’t happy,” Kurt says, trailing off as Beth squeals happily once Finn takes her. “She seems like she only wants you or Puck right now. Where is Puck?”

“He’s still taking off his zombie makeup,” Finn says. 

“Beth didn’t like us trying to take off her zombie makeup, either,” Kurt says with a long sigh. “Then I— well, I’ll tell you and Puck at the same time. No sense repeating it.”

“Did I hear Beth crying?” Puck says, coming out of the locker room. “Bethie-girl, you’re not crying!”

“Not anymore, she’s not,” Finn says, holding Beth out and moving her side to side to make her legs swing. “Happy, happy, happy.”

“Yeah, she has that separation anxiety thing,” Puck says, looking smug. “Did you have fun being a zombie, Beth?”

Beth squeals and babbles “da da da da” at Puck. Finn hands her to Puck, which just makes her babble louder, patting Puck’s face with both hands. “She’s happy to see us,” Finn says.

“Yeah, I’m not a zombie anymore,” Puck says to Beth, making a face that causes Beth to squeal happily again. 

“I think if she could have walked, she would have tried to walk onto the field to get to the two of you,” Kurt says. “Not even Carole could keep her completely happy.” He looks over his shoulder and then points to the end of the hall. “I should tell you what happened after the game ended.”

“What’s up?” Finn asks. 

Kurt waits until they’re closer to the end of the hall than the locker room before he says anything else. “David Karofsky stopped me,” he says quietly. 

Puck inhales sharply, holding Beth a little tighter, and Finn frowns. “Did he threaten you or something?” Finn asks. “’Cause I will _totally_ kick his ass if—”

“No,” Kurt interrupts, shaking his head. “It was very odd, though. He looked very serious, but sad, too, and then he just apologized.”

“For… everything?” Puck says skeptically. “Or for something specific?”

“Everything,” Kurt says. “He apologized, and then said none of it would happen again, and he was going to tell Azimio that as well.”

“Weird,” Finn says. “I mean, good, but weird, right?”

“Yes, good if it’s true that it doesn’t happen again,” Kurt says, nodding. “And very, very weird.”

“How’s he going to convince Azimio?” Puck says, and Kurt shrugs.

“Kick _his_ ass, maybe?” Finn suggests. 

“As long as I’m not involved, I don’t really care,” Kurt says. 

Puck nods. “Good policy. Unless he wanted some dirty diapers or something. Right, Bethie-girl?”

Beth jumps in Puck’s arms, waving her hands around in response to her name. Finn laughs and reaches for her again. “We’ve got all the dirty diapers, don’t we, Beej?”

“So many dirty diapers,” Puck says solemnly. “And now she’s been up way past bedtime.”

Kurt smiles. “I’m glad I have a bit longer before I hear her through the walls.”

“She’ll be so good, you won’t even know she’s there, Uncle Kurt,” Finn says, taking Beth and balancing her on his hip. “Tell Uncle Kurt bye-bye, Beej!”

“Bye, Beth,” Kurt says, looking a little relieved as he heads towards his car. Finn looks over at Puck, who has a weird expression on his face.

“Something up?” Finn asks.

“It’s kinda weird for Kurt to be Uncle Kurt when you’re Uncle Finn,” Puck says.

Finn shrugs. “Well, he’s gonna be my brother in a couple of months. I figured we might as well start calling him that.”

“Yeah, it’s just…” Puck trails off. “I don’t know, it seems weird. Like you’re on the same place on the chart-thing.”

“We’ll just see how it goes when we’re all living together,” Finn suggests. “Maybe it won’t be so weird then.”

“Yeah, maybe so.” Puck laughs. “If she’s still in the middle of separation anxiety, it won’t really come up, since she won’t even hardly look at Burt right now.”

“Aww, you don’t like Burt, do you Beej?” Finn says. “Is he a scary man? Yes, he is, he’s a scary man in a scary hat!”

“I thought your mom was gonna cry the other day,” Puck admits. “We had to remind _her_ it was normal.”

“Don’t make your Granny Carole sad, Beth,” Finn says. They continue walking to Puck’s car, and Finn stops by the back so they can get Beth into the carseat of despair for the ride home. As soon as Puck unlocks the car and opens the door, Beth looks at the carseat and starts wailing. 

“Aww, Bethie-girl, I know,” Puck says, sighing. “It’s not too far. I promise we won’t drive anywhere else all weekend, okay?”

Beth looks at both of them like they’re betraying her as Finn straps her into the carseat, and she doesn’t stop crying for the full drive home. They don’t talk about the name thing again that night, and Puck doesn’t actually bring it up again at all until after Christmas, when Carole and Burt really start looking for a new house for all of them.

Puck waits until one night when they’re eating at the barbecue place, after getting strict instructions not to be gone for _too_ long. Puck looks down at his plate and then up at Finn, frowning. “I still think it’s weird,” Puck says firmly.

“I thought it tasted normal,” Finn says. He looks over at Puck’s plate and shrugs, because it _looks_ normal, too.

“Not the food,” Puck says, grinning a little and nudging Finn’s leg with his foot. “I don’t think you and Kurt can both be ‘Uncle’.”

“Okay,” Finn says. “So what’s Kurt supposed to be instead?”

“Beth doesn’t exactly call you ‘uncle’,” Puck says. “So, maybe… maybe that’s what needs to change.”

“Oh. Hmm.” Finn pokes his baked beans with his fork and frowns a little. “So, what’s she gonna call me?”

“She already calls both of us ‘dadada’,” Puck says. “And she tries to make that ‘ffff’ sound.” Puck picks up his ribs and takes a bite, not looking directly at Finn. 

“Yeah?” Finn asks. He tries not to smile, but he doesn’t succeed. “You have a suggestion?”

“I mean, seems like she might start calling you something like ‘fada’ or something,” Puck says, picking up his pop and halfheartedly glaring at Finn’s smile. 

“What’s the face about?” Finn asks, bumping Puck’s knee with his knee.

“It’s just a suggestion,” Puck says, bumping Finn’s knee back. “If you don’t like it…”

“No, I like it!” Finn says quickly. “It’s good. It’s a little, you know.” He waves his hand around. “Formal.”

“You can be formal.” Puck frowns. “Maybe. Anyway, it’s not like there’s a lot of links on the baby websites about this.”

“I guess we could always ask Jodi and Rebecca how they decided,” Finn suggests.

“Yeah. I was just thinking, you know, she’s used to hearing a ‘ffff’ at the start of your name, at least,” Puck says, shrugging a little.

“Fada is cute,” Finn says. “I could be fada, if she calls me that. It’s not like there’s gonna be somebody else coming along to take my place, right?”

Puck puts down his pop and shakes his head. “ _Dude_.”

“What? I said they _weren’t_!”

“You still thought about it for a minute,” Puck points out. “That was dumb.”

“Sorry for being dumb,” Finn says.

“Yeah, yeah, you have a higher GPA than I do,” Puck says. “Just that thought was dumb.”

“Well, I’m not ever going anywhere, so if you aren’t ever planning on replacing me, I guess it’s good we came up with a name Beej can call me forever,” Finn says. 

“Yeah.” Puck nudges Finn’s leg again. “You almost done?”

“Can we get banana pudding?”

“I was thinking more like going back to the house but not telling anyone yet.”

Finn grins at Puck and nods. “Yeah, that’s an awesome idea. We should do that.”

 

Finn finds the note on his locker just after second period, so he puts his books away and sprints towards Puck’s English class, almost running smack into Puck as he turns the corner for the English hall. 

“Sorry,” Finn says, steadying himself with a hand on Puck’s shoulder. “Coach Beiste wants to see us.”

“Yeah?” Puck says, turning around. “Do you think she could make it an everyday occurrence during third period?” He falls into step beside Finn, walking a little too close and brushing their arms together. 

“Probably could, but I bet she won’t,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, I didn’t really think so,” Puck admits. “What does she want to see us about?”

“She didn’t say. Here.” Finn hands Puck the note, which just says for him and Puck to go to Coach Beiste’s office before third period. 

Puck shrugs after he reads it. “Maybe she’ll at least give us a pass for all of third period, and we can go get Beth early or something.” 

“That would be cool,” Finn says. They keep walking to Coach Beiste’s office, where Finn knocks on the door. 

“Come on in,” Coach Beiste calls out.

“Hey, Coach,” Puck says as he opens the door. “You wanted to see us?”

“You boys take a seat,” Coach Beiste says. 

Puck shrugs and sits down in the far chair, his hand sliding down Finn’s arm as he sits. Finn gives Puck a little smile as he sits down in the chair next to Puck, both of them looking at Coach Beiste expectantly. 

“So how’s the off-season treating you?” Coach Beiste begins, shuffling a small stack of glossy papers on her desk. “Resting up or staying busy?”

“Puck got all As and Bs,” Finn says proudly. “We study a lot.”

“Yeah, but Finn’s GPA is higher,” Puck says. “And we’re getting more sleep, so that’s good.” He pauses. “Especially since there’s that whole separation thing. It’s one or both of us or nobody.”

“I’m sure that’s a tough age on everybody,” Coach Beiste says. “I’m glad to hear that about your grades, though. That kind of brings us to what I called you both in here for.” She picks up a handful of the glossy papers from her desk and holds them out in Finn and Puck’s direction, waggling them until Finn reaches out to take them. Finn looks at them in confusion for a second before passing them over to Puck to look at. 

Puck glances at them, then at Finn, before turning to Coach Beiste, looking puzzled. “Colleges?”

“Just a few places I thought you boys should take a look at,” Coach Beiste explains. “They’re all FCS schools, all Ohio or neighboring states. Take ’em home, read through ’em, let me know what you think.”

“Don’t they have to be interested in _us_?” Puck asks.

“Wouldn’t be giving you the information if they weren’t,” Coach Beiste says.

“We’re only juniors,” Finn says, frowning, then suddenly realizing what Coach Beiste probably means. “Wait, is this, like, _recruiting_ stuff?”

Coach Beiste smiles. “Officially? Nah. It’s just from some interested parties for interesting students.”

“Neither of us is exactly the typical high school recruit,” Puck says slowly. 

Coach Beiste shrugs. “We had a great season this year, and no reason to think we won’t have another great one next year,” she says. 

“Right, but we’re not going to be living in a dorm,” Puck says. “Won’t that be a problem for some of these places?”

“Just look through the materials,” Coach Beiste says. “If you still have questions after that, come back by and we can talk about it, and then we’ll just see what happens come September.”

“Thanks, Coach,” Finn says. He looks over at Puck and shrugs slightly, then back at Coach Beiste. “Was that all?”

“Let me write you boys a note real quick,” Coach says, pulling out a stack of hall passes and scribbling something down on them. “Should give you at least half the period in your classes.”

Puck grins at Coach Beiste. “Shouldn’t we talk about these?” he asks, holding up the stack of brochures and fliers.

Coach Beiste raises an eyebrow at Puck. “Sure. You can talk about them with each other and with your parents. You can talk about them with anybody you want, _after_ you go to your third period classes.” She makes a shooing motion towards the door. “Now, go on. Get.”

“English,” Puck mutters under his breath, standing up and leaving Coach Beiste’s office.

“That was kind of weird,” Finn says, once they’ve closed Coach Beiste’s door behind them. “I hadn’t really even thought that much about college.”

“Yeah,” Puck agrees, walking very slowly. “I mean, scholarships’d be good. You think any of these places have a daycare, though?”

“Guess we can look at the stuff she gave us, maybe go to their websites,” Finn says. “We can’t be the only football players who have a kid, right?”

Puck laughs and grabs Finn’s hand. “I’m pretty sure we’re the only ones raising a kid together,” he points out. “We’re probably a brand-new demographic category.”

“Well, we’ll get it all figured out. She didn’t say we had to read them and make any kind of decision,” Finn says.

“Yeah, we’ve got at least a year.” Puck stops outside his English classroom and leans on the nearby lockers. “Go figure, they always say on the news having a kid as a teenager screws your future up, and now I’m carrying around college brochures.”

 

Puck stands in the middle of Finn’s now–empty room, holding Beth and looking around. “Well, Bethie-girl, time to say bye-bye to here and go to the new place.”

Beth blows a raspberry and says “ba ba ba” as she waves her hands. Finn laughs, picking up the box just outside his doorway. “That’s right, Beej,” he says. “Bye-bye house.”

“We’re gonna live downstairs at the new house, remember?” Puck says to Beth, following Finn. “Just the three of us in the basement.”

“And you’ll have your very own room, too,” Finn says. 

“I’m still not sure what we’re going to put in there,” Puck says to Finn. “Toys, I guess? She doesn’t need her own bed yet.”

“We’ll put her dresser thing in there, and her toy box,” Finn says. He follows Puck down the stairs to the front door, which Puck holds open for him to carry the box through. 

“She’ll probably get a lot of toys for her birthday,” Puck says, nodding a little. “And hey! We get to try having more room when we sleep. How much you want to bet she’ll use up all the extra room?”

“I bet we’ll end up with less room than we had here,” Finn says. “And she doesn’t need more toys! She just got a billion new toys for Christmas.”

“I didn’t say she _needed_ more toys,” Puck says with a grin that promptly falls as they walk towards the car. “Okay, Bethie-girl. One trip. That’s it. And then the drive to school will be shorter!”

“Which’ll make us _all_ happier,” Finn adds. He puts the last box in the back seat next to Beth’s carseat, then shuts the door. 

Puck winces and then quickly gets Beth in her seat before getting in the front. “And are you _sure_ that site says she has to be two to turn around?” Puck asks as they pull out and Beth starts wailing. 

“Yeah, that’s what it said,” Finn says. “Trust me, I double-checked, even.”

“Sorry, Beth,” Puck says, shaking his head, but since he doesn’t yell it, Beth probably can’t even hear him over her own screaming. “At least we can walk some places from the new house, once it’s warmer.”

“Do you think we need to get a stroller or something for the summertime?” Finn asks. 

“She’ll be walking by then, though,” Puck says. “I mean, probably not walking very fast, but still walking.”

“I guess we can just hold her hand and walk her places.” 

“If we don’t buy a stroller, that’s more money for ice cream. You can have ice cream this summer, Beth!” Puck says loudly. 

“Yay, Beej! Ice cream!” Finn says, even more loudly. Beth’s screams just get louder, though, like she’s even more mad about them trying to out-shout her. 

“I don’t get it,” Puck says as they pull up in the driveway of the new house, behind Carole’s car. “She’s so happy the rest of the time. And she always likes wherever we’re going.” 

“She likes to be able to see us,” Finn says. As soon as the car is still, he hops out and walks around to Beth’s door. He opens it and then quickly unbuckles Beth’s carseat, picking her up. She stops crying and pats his face, cooing “da!” at him.

“You’re her hero,” Puck jokes, getting the box from the other side and opening up the trunk. “Having that little mini-fridge downstairs is going to be kinda cool, you know?”

“Yeah, I think it’s gonna be great down there,” Finn agrees. “It’s almost like having our own apartment, except Mom’s still upstairs if we need her.”

“And we don’t have to cook our own dinner every night,” Puck says, picking up another box and throwing a bag over one shoulder before shutting the trunk. “C’mon, Bethie-girl, I bet the movers have everything inside by now.”

“I don’t like the movers,” Finn says in his Beth-voice. “I want a bottle and a muffin!”

“If you give a Beth a muffin,” Puck says, grinning widely. “I want a pop, sitting down.”

“That sounds good,” Finn says. They carry Beth into the house, through the box-filled living room and to the stairs down to the basement. Beth shrieks extra loud in the stairwell, laughing at the way her voice echoes back. Once they’re down there, Finn puts Beth into her exersaucer, where she immediately starts jumping in place and smacking the spinny-ball.

Puck puts down his boxes and bag before walking over to the mini-fridge. “Yes!” he says a minute later. “Pop and formula already in here.” He pulls out two pops and hands one to Finn before flopping onto the bed. “Maybe forget the pop and lie down.”

“That sounds good, too,” Finn says. He drops onto the bed next to Puck, spreading his arms out a little before rolling over and draping one arm across Puck’s chest. “It’s nice down here.”

“Yeah.” Puck rolls onto his side, scooting closer to Finn. “I know we had a door and all, but this feels a lot more private.”

“You think this is what it’ll feel like when we have our own place?” Finn asks, pulling Puck even closer to kiss him. 

“Maybe,” Puck says quietly a few moments later. “Maybe we’ll have a door between us and Beth sometimes by then?” he adds with a grin. “She’ll get tired of us eventually.”

“We are pretty awesome, though,” Finn says.

Puck laughs and kisses Finn again. “Yeah, we are.” He puts one arm around Finn’s neck and then rolls onto his back, tugging Finn with him. Finn lets Puck roll him over, so his body is over Puck’s and pressed against him.

“Hey,” Finn says, smiling down at Puck.

“Hey,” Puck echoes, grinning. He hooks one foot around Finn’s ankle and moves his hands down Finn’s back. “We should take our shirts off.”

“Still have all those boxes to unpack,” Finn says.

“Which will wait on us, and Beth’s happy right now.”

“Okay,” Finn says, sitting up with one knee on either side of Puck’s hips. He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor. “Need some help?”

“Sure,” Puck says, still grinning as he lets his arms fall on either side of his head. Finn grabs the bottom hem of Puck’s shirt, pulling the shirt up over Puck’s head and arms before chucking it onto the floor next to his own shirt. 

“Hey,” Finn says again, leaning forward and pressing his mouth to Puck’s before Puck can answer. Puck runs his hands down Finn’s back again, then moves one to Finn’s neck and into Finn’s hair. 

Puck hooks his foot over Finn’s ankle again, his other leg pressing against the outside of Finn’s leg, and he kisses Finn back, a little harder the longer they kiss. Finn shifts and moves one of his legs between Puck’s, pressing up against Puck as they continue kissing. 

“See?” Puck says a few minutes later. “This is a lot better than boxes.”

“Yeah, so much better,” Finn agrees. He presses his thigh more firmly against Puck, moving his hips in a circle as they keep making out. Puck pushes up against Finn, one hand still in Finn’s hair and the other moving slowly over Finn’s back. Finn runs a hand down Puck’s side, squeezing his hip before sliding around the bend where Puck’s butt and thigh meet. 

Puck’s hips jerk up and his fingers tighten in Finn’s hair, his thumb stroking slowly over Finn’s neck. Finn glances behind him, looking out at Beth still happily banging on the toys on her exersaucer. “She’s fine,” Puck murmurs, pulling Finn into another kiss. 

The two of them keep making out, Puck jerking his hips up in a rhythm, until Kurt’s voice comes from the bottom of the stairs. “Oh my god!” Kurt exclaims. “In front of the baby?”

“Hmm?” Finn says, not really looking up from Puck, neither of them making any move to stop kissing. 

“You can’t make out in front of Beth!” Kurt says. “And… and… I think we need some kind of system.”

“A system for what?” Puck asks.

“Knocking is a system,” Finn says. “And Beth doesn’t care. She’s not even paying attention to us.” It’s true. Beth still isn’t looking in Finn and Puck’s direction, but she is reaching in Kurt’s, straining to get to him as she shouts “Da! Da!”

Kurt picks her up, then sighs when she immediately starts crying, her arms reaching towards Finn and Puck. “What is it, Bethie-girl?” Puck says with his own sigh. “Uncle Kurt’s just not good enough?”

“Dude, I think you’ve been used,” Finn tells Kurt. “You’re just the Dad transportation device.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Kurt says, bringing Beth over to the bed and sitting her down beside them. “Shouldn’t you at least stay clothed around her? And I did knock, but since no one answered…” Kurt trails off looking slightly embarrassed. 

“Nah, she likes it when we don’t have shirts on. Right, Beth?” Puck says, moving his arm around her. Beth blows raspberries at Kurt, looking kind of smug as she leans against Puck’s arm and pats it.

“Beej, you are _such_ a Puckerman,” Finn says, shaking his head. “Hey Kurt, toss me my shirt?”

“Fine,” Kurt says with a little huff, leaning over and picking up both shirts before tossing them towards Finn. “I came down to tell you that dinner’s going to be ready in five minutes.” 

“’Course she is, she’s got good taste,” Puck says with a smirk before turning to Kurt. “And cool, thanks. Maybe we need a door at the bottom of the stairs.”

“Or a doorbell,” Finn says. He pulls his shirt back on and then holds his arms out for Beth. “Ready for dinner, Beej?”

“Even if she’s not, I am,” Puck says, lifting Beth up just a little until Finn grabs her, then sitting up himself. “What are you going to eat, Bethie-girl? You going to have some carrots?”

“There’s carrots and mashed potatoes,” Kurt says, looking startled. “And roast. How did you know that?”

“Duh. He’s got the Puckerman food nose,” Finn says. “Where do you think Beth got it?”

“Called it as soon as we got here,” Puck agrees, pulling on his shirt and standing up. “And maybe everyone should knock when they’re closer to the bottom of the stairs. Knock on the wall or something.”

“I like my doorbell idea.”

“Until we install a doorbell— _if_ we install a doorbell—I think I’ll heed that suggestion, Puck,” Kurt says. “I’ll pass it along to Dad, too.” 

Puck starts laughing. “Oh, man, don’t, I want to see the look on his face.”

“Not me!” Finn says. “I don’t need to see that look, like, _at all_!”

“How do you know what it would look like?” Puck asks, narrowing his eyes at Finn. 

“I have a good imagination!”

Puck folds his arms and looks skeptical. “Really?” Kurt stifles a laugh and Puck glares half-heartedly at him for a moment before looking back at Finn. 

“What?” Finn asks. “How would I have seen the face? I mean, I’ve seen _a_ face, but not that specific face. Or for that specific reason!”

“Good!” Puck says, looking a little less skeptical. 

“You two are so amusing,” Kurt says, almost to himself. “No wonder Beth always seems like she’s on the verge of laughing.”

 

Rachel keeps pacing back and forth across the choir room, which Beth finds hilarious, laughing and squealing at Rachel every time she gets close. To Finn’s surprise, Rachel has mustered up a smile for Beth at nearly every pass, even though she’s obviously stressing out about Mr. Schue not being there yet with the list of their Regionals competition.

“Girl, you need to sit down,” Mercedes says, on Rachel’s twentieth or so time across the classroom. “You’re making everybody dizzy.”

“I just really need to know if we’re going to have to face Vocal Adrenaline at Regionals again,” Rachel says in a rush. “I think we— I mean I. I would need more emotional preparation time. I would need to tell my dads to increase my therapy.”

One of the new members—either Joe or Jeremy, since Finn can’t keep them straight—turns to the other and quietly asks, “Why would she need more therapy for Vocal Adrenaline? Are they that scary?”

“New Kid,” Puck says, turning around and shaking his head, “don’t ask questions.”

“Sorry,” the new member without the dreadlocks, whichever one he is, says. 

“Do you think it could be one of the other teams we faced last year?” Rachel says, still talking too fast. 

Before anyone can answer her, since this time Rachel looked like she expected an answer, Mr. Schue walks into the room, an envelope in hand. "Okay, everyone sit down!" he says with a nervous smile. “Let’s see what’s in the envelope.”

Puck picks Beth up, sitting her on his lap, and she squeals once, bouncing a little in place. 

“Yes, please, Mr. Schuester!” Rachel says.

Mr. Schue nods at Rachel, then starts to open the envelope carefully, pulling out a few pieces of paper and reading the top one. “We’re up against one group from last year, Aural Intensity, and a new one, Oral Ovations.”

“Oh!” With that, Rachel finally sits down, her eyes wide.

Finn elbows Puck in the side. “That totally sounds dirty,” he whispers.

Puck snickers, covering his mouth with one hand. “Yeah, it does,” he whispers back. 

“The Oral Ovations are from the eastern part of the state,” Mr. Schue tells them. “I don’t know anything else about them.” 

“Can no one name a show choir in this state?” Kurt mutters.

“Ours is only bad if you say it in _that_ tone of voice,” Mercedes says.

“Like your boyfriend does, Kurt,” Puck offers, grinning widely at Kurt. 

“You’re right, he does,” Finn says, shaking his head. “He says it like it’s all one word, and then it sounds like he’s saying Nude—”

“Okay, that’s great,” Mr. Schue says loudly, interrupting. “Now, none of this should change our efforts to find the right set list. Or write the right set list,” he says, smiling at Rachel, who nods rapidly. “If you don’t have anything else, we’ll take the rest of the period as a free period.”

“Yes!” Finn says, fist-pumping the air. “Free time with Beej!”

“Free time, Bethie-girl,” Puck says to her, and she squeals a little as everyone starts to stand up. The new kids still look confused, but they seem smart enough not to ask any more questions at least. 

“Have fun this afternoon, Beth,” Rachel says as she passes them, smiling at Beth and waving bye-bye at her. 

“Say bye-bye,” Puck prompts Beth quietly. 

Beth waves both her hands and says, “Ba ba ba!”

“That was… the third time?” Puck says as they leave the room. 

“Yeah,” Finn says, giving a quick look over his shoulder to make sure nobody else is close enough to hear. “When did Rachel turn back into nice Rachel?”

Puck shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe Beth’s just irresistible?”

“She is pretty cute,” Finn says. “And I’m not complaining about it or anything. It’s just weird.”

“No, you’re right, it is weird,” Puck agrees. “I don’t get it, but I guess we don’t have to.”

“Hey, you know me. As long as everybody’s happy, I’m happy,” Finn says.

 

Puck holds up both arms and looks from Beth’s flowergirl dress to his suit and then at Finn. “Well, this’ll be fun to figure out.”

“Do we put the tights on over the diaper?” Finn asks. “If we put them on under the diaper, Beej’ll pee on them. Will they fit over it, though?”

“The dress doesn’t have one of those fake-underwear covers with it, so the tights must go over the diaper,” Puck says after hanging up his suit in the doorway. “Should we get her dressed first and hope she doesn’t try to crawl while we get dressed?”

“We should get her dressed, then put her in the exersaucer,” Finn says. “Which I guess we don’t actually have here, so nevermind.”

“Maybe I’ll get dressed and then get her dressed while you get dressed,” Puck says after frowning for a moment. He starts to pull off his shirt and toes off his shoes. “Too bad we don’t have an extra person who doesn’t have to change clothes.” He continues getting undressed, pausing to make a few faces at Beth, who squeals happily at each one, and then puts on his suit, sighing when he picks up the tie. “You’d think we’d get used to these things.”

“I still think it’s not fair that Kurt wouldn’t let us wear clip-ons,” Finn complains, as he starts kicking off his shoes, too. 

“He probably had a point about Beth pulling ’em off, though,” Puck says, shrugging and standing in front of the mirror to fight with his tie until he must decide it’s fine. “Good as it’s gonna get,” he announces, turning and reaching for Beth. “C’mere, Bethie-girl, it’s flowergirl time!”

“Don’t let her chew on your tie,” Finn says. “She’s cutting that other top tooth. She chewed up one of Kurt’s pocket handkerchief things.”

“He _did_ leave it in the living room,” Puck says, getting Beth undressed. “That day he swears up and down Chandler didn’t come over.”

“Must’ve been Kurt’s _other_ sometimes-boyfriend,” Finn says. He pulls off his sweater and undoes his jeans, picking up the tuxedo pieces with a loud sigh. “We should’ve held out for that courthouse thing Burt said they could do.”

“I think your mom would’ve cried if Beth hadn’t been the flowergirl, though,” Puck points out, shaking his head as he wiggles Beth into her dress. “Is Chandler coming? I can’t keep track of those two.”

“I _think_ they’re on again,” Finn says, “unless they’re not.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, exactly.” He stands Beth up, holding her hands. “Yeah, you can’t crawl in this, Bethie-girl.”

Finn puts on the tuxedo pants and buttons up the shirt, then holds up the tie with another loud sigh. “Okay. Here goes nothing, I guess.” 

“Fada!” Beth squeals loudly, bouncing by bending her knees rapidly.

“Yeah, Fada’s trying to tie his tie,” Finn says. He steps in front of the mirror, frowning at his reflection as he knots the tie. It comes out a little uneven, but if anybody—probably Kurt—doesn’t like it, they can fix it. “Okay, Beej. What do you think?”

“Ba ba ba!” Beth says, and Puck laughs. 

“I don’t know if she wants to eat or wants to leave this room,” Puck says, scooping her up and walking over to stand next to Finn. “I think we look pretty good,” Puck adds after looking in the mirror at their reflections for a moment.

“You look good,” Finn says. “And Beej always looks beautiful.”

Puck rolls his eyes and nudges Finn’s side with his elbow. “All _three_ of us.”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you, too,” Finn says. He puts his arm around Puck and pulls him close. Puck leans sideways and then kisses Finn, continuing to kiss him until Beth starts squealing and patting both their faces. 

“Fada! Dada! Ba ba ba!”

Puck pulls away and laughs. “Okay, okay. You want to go find your flowers, flowergirl?”

Beth continues to squeal and babble as they go to find the little white wheelbarrow full of flowers, all of which Kurt assured them were safe for Beth to eat, since it’s not a question of _if_ she’s going to eat them, but _when_. Sure enough, as soon as Puck sets Beth down in the wheelbarrow, she crams a handful of pink rose petals into her mouth, chewing on them happily. 

“Well, I guess those taste good,” Finn says. “Don’t eat all of ’em yet, Beej!”

“Yeah, there’s cake after this,” Puck tells her. “We just have to sit through the wedding part to get to the party part.”

“Oh, good, you three are ready!” Kurt says, bursting into the area where everyone’s supposed to wait. “I cannot find Santana.”

“Find Brittany. Santana’s probably with her,” Finn suggests. “Also, look! Our ties are right!”

“Oh!” Kurt startles and then smiles at them. “Wonderful! If anyone else comes here, tell them not to leave this room or else I will slit their throats.” With that, Kurt disappears again, probably to find Brittany.

“Hide the knives,” Puck stage-whispers to Beth. “Uncle Kurt’s gone crazy.”

“Tut!” Beth suddenly pipes up, waving her hand in the direction Kurt went.

“I think she just said Kurt,” Finn says, which makes Beth squeal and repeat “Tut! Tut!”

“I won’t tell her that Kurt’s not actually Egyptian if you won’t,” Puck says with a grin, holding up his hand for Beth to high-five. Beth pats it several times with both her hands, grinning toothily at Puck. 

Finn starts to say, “Maybe we should go—” but then the rest of the glee club pours into the room in one large group, Santana and Brittany included, with Kurt behind them making a murder-face.

“Everyone line up!” Kurt demands, clapping his hands twice before putting his hands on his hips. Every jumps into a line so fast that Tina’s shoe falls off and Sam trips over Mercedes, almost falling on his face. Still, they’re all lined up faster than they ever managed to do for Mr. Schuester, and Kurt looks happy. “I’ll go tell them we’re ready,” Kurt says with a nod, and he disappears for about thirty seconds before he comes back and leads them to where they’re supposed to enter. 

“Remember, throw, not scream,” Puck whispers to Beth. Beth responds with a happy shriek and another fistful of rose petals crammed into her mouth.

“Or eat. Eat’s good,” Finn says. 

“Anything that doesn’t ruin the singing,” Puck agrees with a nod. 

The music starts and Kurt gives them all a final nod. They all head in on cue, singing and dancing, and then take their places for the ceremony. Puck scoops up Beth out of the wheelbarrow once everyone’s in position, probably because she keeps trying to eat the rose petals, but she stays mostly quiet while people talk. At one point during the ceremony, Puck turns towards Finn, studying him and almost staring, an odd look on his face. Finn looks back at him and smiles, and keeps on looking at Puck and smiling until Carole has to nudge Finn to get him to give her Burt’s ring. When Finn looks back at Puck, he still has a weird look on his face, but he’s not openly staring at Finn, just giving him the occasional glance. He keeps it up until the ceremony ends and everyone goes back down the aisle, Finn and Puck at the back with Beth walking between them and squealing. 

 

After Finn sings to Carole, and after he dances with her, then dances with Kurt, then dances a lot with Puck and Beth, Kurt directs everyone outside so they can release two doves and then blow bubbles as Burt and Carole leave for their honeymoon. Despite Finn’s worries, the doves don’t crap on anybody, and Kurt seems so happy about how well the wedding went that he keeps bouncing in place with his hands clasped together in front of his face. 

“Do we change here or at home?” Puck asks Finn quietly, loosening his tie slightly. “’Cause I vote at home, asap.” He shifts Beth from one arm to another. “No point in putting Beth in clothes just to put her in pajamas at home, right?”

“Yeah, she’s probably going to explode if we don’t put her down for a nap soon, anyway,” Finn says. 

“Party for a week, Bethie-girl,” Puck says. “Just us and Uncle Kurt, but he’ll be upstairs. We don’t have to do anything else, right?” Puck asks Finn. 

“Nope. We’re all done,” Finn says. “Do you think he’s gonna bring Chandler over?”

Puck shrugs and frowns, thinking. “Maybe. Or maybe Chandler’ll take him out for food that isn’t wedding food.” He looks around as he grabs Finn’s hand. “Quick, before anyone needs us for anything.”

“Okay,” Finn says, laughing at Puck as they run for the car, Beth clapping her hands and squealing. 

“It could happen,” Puck insists, then tosses Finn the keys. “Here, start it up so it’ll get warm.” He winces and starts to put Beth in her seat, bunching up her flowergirl dress around the straps. Beth lets out an angry wail before Finn even has a chance to turn the key in the ignition.

“One day she’s gonna sit in the seat without screaming and we’ll have a heart attack and die,” Finn says.

“Yeah, and if we survive, we’ll end up taking her to the emergency room,” Puck says, nodding as he sits down in the driver’s seat. “’Cause I think we’d have to assume she was sick. _Really_ sick.”

“Yeah, it would take an emergency to make Beej not scream in the carseat,” Finn agrees. “Sorry, Beej!”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Puck pulls out and then puts his hand on top of Finn’s. “No trips to the beach for her until she can face forward. Can you imagine listening to her for more than fifteen or twenty minutes?”

“Maybe we could fly somewhere with her,” Finn suggests. 

“Yeah, as long as we can stand the trip to the airport. Or we can wait until she’s a little older and take her to something like Disney World,” Puck says. 

“That would be so cool! We can take her to meet all the princesses!”

“How big do you think she has to be for Space Mountain?” Puck says. “She’d probably like all the animals, too.”

“And Stitch!” Finn says. “We can dress her up like Lilo.”

“Oh, yeah. And buy her mouse ears.” Puck grins at Finn as he pulls into the driveway. “I know they didn’t pick the church ’cause it was close, but I am glad it was.”

“Me, too. We’re home, Beej! Stop screaming now, please,” Finn says, turning around to unbuckle Beth’s seat so Puck can grab her out of it even faster.

“C’mon, Bethie-girl!” Puck says, grabbing Beth and the diaper backpack. “Time to go get out of that dress.”

Even though Puck says he’s going to change Beth out of her dress, the first thing he does is actually start taking off parts of the tuxedo and tossing them to the side. He keeps getting undressed until he’s down to just his boxers before he starts changing Beth. Even though she usually likes being put into jammies, she fights Puck this time, kicking her legs and then going stiff so he can’t get the jammies over her legs.

“I think she’s _really_ tired,” Finn says, taking off his own tuxedo parts and throwing them on top of Puck’s.

“Yeah, I guess it was all pretty exciting,” Puck says, picking Beth up with the jammies still unsnapped and going over to their mini-fridge. “You want a bottle now, Beth? Then we’ll worry about finishing getting dressed.” Puck sits down on the bed, leaning against the headboard, and holds the bottle for Beth, but he doesn’t look at her, watching Finn get undressed instead.

Once Finn is down to his boxers, he stands there with his hands on his hips. “I don’t know if I have the energy to put more clothes on,” he admits.

“C’mere,” Puck says with a grin. “We’ll keep ourselves warm.”

“Sure,” Finn says.

After Finn sits down, Puck leans his head against him, still feeding Beth her bottle. “Maybe Beth’ll want to sleep a little bit in the pack ’n play.”

“She looks pretty sleepy,” Finn agrees. 

“You want to try to get her snapped up while she’s still eating?”

“Yeah, just hold her still and don’t look at me while I’m doing it,” Finn says. He slowly moves his hands towards Beth, snapping the bottom of her jammies. Beth doesn’t kick or go stiff this time, so Finn gets the jammies snapped all the way and then snuggles against Puck again. 

“Success!” Puck says quietly. 

“I think she’s gonna fall asleep,” Finn whispers. “Look.”

Beth’s eyes start to droop, and she sucks on the bottle more slowly. Puck nods, gesturing towards the pacifier sitting beside the bed. “Switch?” he says.

Finn picks up the pacifier, and as Puck moves the bottle away from Beth’s mouth, Finn quickly pops the pacifier in. Beth doesn’t seem to notice, continuing to suck on the pacifier with her eyes closed. Puck slowly eases off the bed, then puts Beth down in the pack ’n play, covering her up with a light blanket. He lies back on the bed quietly, leaning against Finn. 

“Hey,” Finn says, putting his arms around Puck.

“Hi there,” Puck says, grinning up at Finn for a second before dropping his head again. 

“So, I think that all went pretty good,” Finn says. “How about you?”

“Yeah. Beth didn’t scream in the middle of the vows, and Kurt was still alive when we left, so I think that’s a win,” Puck says, nodding against Finn’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Finn says. They lie there for a little while, then Finn shifts a little so he can see Puck’s face. “So... what was the weird look on your face about?”

“Oh.” Puck looks surprised for a moment, then shrugs a little. “Remember… remember the night she was born, and we were talking?”

“Kind of,” Finn says. “It was all a little crazy.”

“Yeah, it was.” Puck half-smiles for a second, then frowns, then smiles a little again. “I mean, I don’t remember exactly how I said it, but I said something about how it wasn’t getting married, that a kid was the real ‘for better or for worse’ thing.” 

Finn nods. “Yeah. I remember that,” he says quietly.

“And that was more true than I realized,” Puck says wryly. “But… yeah. I was thinking about that. That we’re an awesome little family-thing, and.” Puck stops and exhales. “And I love you.”

Finn tightens his arms around Puck. “I love you,” he says. “And Beej.”

“Yeah.” Puck grins and lifts his eyes up to meet Finn’s. “Pretty sure Beth loves us a whole, whole lot, too.” He pauses and grins more widely. “Want to take advantage of her being asleep and _not_ being between us?”

 

“C’mon,” Puck is saying to Kurt in the kitchen as the toast pops up. “Your dad didn’t say you couldn’t. Just go spend the night at Chandler’s. It’s a school night, and you can tell his parents you need a break from hearing the baby.”

“I can’t hear Beth from my bedroom,” Kurt says dryly. 

“Not the point,” Puck says cheerfully, and there’s the sound of a knife on toast before the sound of a knife or spoon clinking against a glass jar. “You get some privacy, we get some privacy, everyone’s happy.”

“Fine,” Kurt says. “I’ll text Chandler. No promises.”

“Awesome,” Puck says, and there’s the sound of a chair being pulled out from the kitchen table. Finn takes that as a signal for him and Beth to come into the kitchen and sit down. The plate in front of Finn’s seat has two pieces of toast with jelly already on them. Beth’s highchair tray has a peeled banana half and some dry Cheerios.

“Yummy breakfast, Beej!” Finn says, putting Beth into the highchair and buckling her in. “You get banana!”

“Nananana,” Beth says, picking up the banana and squeezing it so it breaks into halves again. 

“Beej loves her breakfast,” Finn says to Puck. 

“The messier, the better,” Puck says through a mouthful of toast. 

“Charming,” Kurt says. “I have a meeting with Ms. Pillsbury before school starts, so I’ll be leaving now. Good morning, Finn. Bye, Beth.” He waves at Beth and then starts to leave the room.

“Ba ba ba!” Beth shrieks after him. Once the front door shuts behind Kurt, Beth yells, “Tut!”

“Yeah, that’s definitely her word for Kurt,” Puck says. “You’ll see Uncle Kurt later, Bethie-girl.”

“I wish she’d actually say it when he’s in the room,” Finn says.

“Well, yeah, but she doesn’t have to fight for his attention when he’s in the room, usually,” Puck says. “You just want his attention, right Beth?”

“Nananana!” Beth declares, grinning around her mouthful of banana.

“Yeah, yummy banana. You want the other half in your lunch?” Puck asks her. “You already have carrots and turkey.”

“Bananas are her favorite, though,” Finn says. “We should get some more after school. I think that’s the last one.”

“Yeah, she loves ’em,” Puck says. “We should get more of that sliced chicken, too.”

“So...” Finn begins casually, taking a bite of his toast before continuing. “You planning a big night or something?”

“Huh?” Puck says, taking a drink of his coffee. “When?”

“Tonight. You were trying to get Kurt to stay at Chandler’s.”

“Yeah.” Puck shrugs. “Figured it’d be nice to have at least one night without everyone around, right?”

“Yeah,” Finn says. He moves his toast around on his plate, looking down at it. “I’m still not really ready to—”

“I know,” Puck cuts him off, and he nudges Finn’s leg with his foot. “I know. We’ve got time or whatever.” He grins widely. “Besides, you think I’d let a little thing like people upstairs stop me, _if_ I was gonna start pushing it?”

Finn laughs and bumps his leg against Puck’s. “Nah, I guess not.” 

“Now…” Puck trails off and smirks a little. “If you hear me trying to farm _Beth_ out for the night sometime, then you might want to ask me about it.”

“I’ll remember that,” Finn says. 

“Or you could start trying to farm her out, if you’re trying to tell me something,” Puck adds. 

“I’ll remember that, too,” Finn says, grinning at Puck.

“Yeah?” Puck says, his smirk getting wider, and he leans over, barely kissing Finn before pulling back and taking another bite of his toast. “Good to know.”

 

Finn meets Puck just outside the daycare classroom, Beth immediately squealing “dada!” and flinging herself into Puck’s arms. 

“If we hurried, we could bring Beej by to say hi to Coach Beiste,” Finn says. “She’s been asking about her.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Puck says. “What do you think, Beth? Do you want to go see Coach Beiste?” He makes a face at her, trying to get her to laugh. 

“Dada!” Beth shrieks again through her giggles. 

“Yep, that’s me!” Puck says, sticking his tongue out at Beth. “Who’s that?” he asks her, pointing at Finn. 

“Fada!”

“I sure am,” Finn says. “Smart girl!”

“I’m pretty sure she’s smarter than either of us,” Puck says with a little shrug. “If we hurry and teach her to read, she’ll be able to help us get through college, right?”

“Maybe she could go to Harvard or something,” Finn says.

“What do you think, Beth? Harvard or bust?” Puck says, grinning at her. “Maybe we’ll get Uncle Kurt to help you learn some French once you turn one.”

“She’d be so cute talking French!” Finn says.

“And we’ll keep taking her to Spanish class,” Puck says as they stop in front of Coach Beiste’s door and he knocks. “Smartest baby.”

“Don’t they do some kind of smart baby test? We could get her tested and find out if she’s a baby genius.”

“Do they?” Puck shrugs. “We should ask someone. Maybe Schue.”

“Maybe Ms. Pillsbury,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, that probably is a guidance counselor thing,” Puck says with a nod, and he knocks on Coach Beiste’s door again. 

“Come on in,” Coach Beiste calls out. “Hey there, Beth!”

Beth jumps in Puck’s arms. “Bibibibibi!”

“I think she’s totally saying ‘Beiste’,” Finn says. 

“Doing her best, anyway,” Puck says. “Hey, Coach.”

“How are you boys doing?” Beiste asks, but she keeps looking at Beth while she talks.

“Did you want to hold her?” Finn offers. 

“You think she’ll let me?” Beiste asks. 

“Keep her facing us,” Puck says, turning Beth in his arms before handing her to Coach Beiste. “She’s getting a little more tolerant of other people again.” 

“Hey Beth,” Coach Beiste says to Beth in a surprisingly high-pitched babytalk voice. “Did you come to visit me? Did you want to play some football?”

Beth grins at Puck and crams her fist into her mouth, patting Coach Beiste’s arm with her other hand. “That might be a yes,” Puck says. “Maybe she can be a wide receiver. I don’t think she’s going to be built for defense.”

“She didn’t get my height,” Finn tells Coach Beiste, who looks at him strangely, but nods. 

“But we’re going to make her— what’s three languages?” Puck says. “Not bilingual, that’s only two.”

“Trilingual?” Coach Beiste suggests. 

“Yeah, that,” Finn says. “She’s gonna know English, Spanish, and we’re making Kurt teach her French. He doesn’t know it yet.”

“We’re giving her until after her birthday to start French,” Puck says. “Hey, Bethie-girl, you having fun hanging out with Coach Beiste?”

Beth blows a raspberry and says “Dada! Fada! Bibibibi!”

“Yeah, we see you with Coach Beiste,” Finn tells her.

“Well, I think it’s very, uh, _enterprising_ of you boys to teach her so many languages,” Coach Beiste says, bouncing Beth a little. Beth laughs and pats Coach Beiste’s arm more.

“So we’ve been looking at some of those brochures,” Puck says. “A few of those places don’t have any childcare on campus or even nearby.”

Coach Beiste nods. “I can see how that would be a deal-breaker.”

“And they’re gonna have to take both of us,” Puck adds. 

“I understand that, too,” Coach Beiste says. “You like the looks of any of the programs, though?”

“If we stay in-state, Youngstown State wouldn’t be bad,” Puck says, then glances at Finn. “It could make sense for us to go to Indiana or Pennsylvania, though.”

Finn nods, even though he has left most of the researching to Puck so far. “Yeah, those are good,” he says.

“Glad to see you’re giving it all some careful thought,” Coach Beiste says. 

“We have to plan ahead a little more than most, I guess,” Puck says with a shrug. “You ready to go, Bethie-girl? We want to get home and get the leftovers before Uncle Kurt and Chandler do.”

“Tut!”

“That’s right, Beej. Going to see Kurt, _after_ we eat,” Finn says. He holds his arms out for Beth, and she kicks her legs in excitement as Finn takes her.

“You boys have a nice evening, then,” Coach Beiste says. “And you, too, Miss Beth.”

“Thanks, Coach,” Puck says, holding the door open for Finn and Beth. 

“Bye, Coach Beiste!” Finn calls over his shoulder as he walks out into the hallway, Puck behind him. “I guess I’d better look at some of that college stuff myself, huh?”

Puck laughs. “Maybe, yeah. I have no idea what you want to major in. I don’t know what I want to major in, either, though.”

“Why’d you pick the ones you picked, then?” Finn asks. 

Puck doesn’t answer until they’re outside the school, walking towards the car. “If we establish residency in either Indiana or Pennsylvania…” he trails off and then clears his throat. “Ohio doesn’t have second-parent adoption, and it’s probably not going to. Indiana and Pennsylvania do.”

“Oh,” Finn says softly, looking down at Beth, who is chewing on her fingers and blowing raspberries around them. “ _Oh_. Okay, yeah. That would be good. I would like that.”

“Yeah?” Puck grins a little. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like you had to. Just… the _option_ would be nice, I thought.”

“No way! She’s my Beej,” Finn says. “Of course I want to.”

“Yeah, she is,” Puck agrees. “Hear that, Bethie-girl? What do you think?”

Beth continues to chew on her hand, but grins at Puck. Finn balances her on his hip a little better and asks Puck, “So, could we do that thing where we stick our last names together? Hydrate?”

“Hyphenate, Finn,” Puck says, unlocking the car and dumping their bags in the trunk.

“Ha!” Finn says. “I _knew_ that! I was just trying to get you to agree to it!”

Puck laughs. “Tricking me into things, now?” He shuts the trunk and leans against it. “Beth, can you believe that?”

“Dada!” Beth says. “Fada!”

“See? Beth’s got my back,” Finn says. 

“At first I thought you meant that thing they do with the celebrity couples,” Puck says. 

“Seaweed wraps?” Finn asks. “I saw that in one of Kurt’s magazines.”

“Eww, who would eat seaweed?” Puck asks, making a face. “No, like, ‘Brangelina’.”

Finn frowns at the first possibility that comes to mind and shakes his head. “No. Let’s not ever do that. Ever.”

“No ‘Hudman’ or ‘Puckerson’ in our future?”

“Yeah, I don’t think either of those, either, dude,” Finn says. “I think we’ll just stick with the hyphen.”

 

As the New Directions all gather together in the green room at Regionals, Finn realizes with a brief jolt of surprise that he hasn’t really thought about Quinn much at all over the past few months, not since they saw Judy Fabray over the summer. Even at Sectionals, her absence hadn’t been that noticeable, probably because they had the small handful of new members. Regionals, though, feels like the place where everything the way they knew it ended, and everything the way Finn and Puck know it now began. 

Finn isn’t the only one who seems confused or shaken, either. Mercedes looks a little teary-eyed, holding onto one of Kurt’s hands, and Kurt’s other hand is holding Chandler’s, since Mr. Schue said it was okay for Chandler to stay back there with them until it was time for him to carry Beth out to Carole and Burt. Mr. Schue looks uncomfortable, clearing his throat a few times like he wants to say something, but then not saying anything.

“Let’s all get into a show choir circle,” Rachel says after the last of Mr. Schue’s throat-clearings. 

As everyone gathers together into a circle, the newer members—Sam, Joe, Jeremy, and the little freshman girl, Marley—all seem to move to the outside, so they’re in their own circle outside the original New Directions’ circle. 

“I think— no, I _know_ most of us are thinking about Quinn,” Rachel begins, looking around the circle at each of them. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who sometimes expects to see her in rehearsal or class. I probably am the one who has acted the most inappropriately, though.” Rachel lets out her breath slowly. “I often felt like Quinn and I were in competition, and after she died— I felt guilty. And I also quite inappropriately transferred that competitive feeling to someone else.” She looks at Beth, who is standing up in front of Puck, holding on to his pants. “Beth, Noah, Finn. I’m very sorry. If there’s any way at all I can begin to make it up to you, please let me know.”

Mercedes nods her head and puts her hand on Rachel’s back, rubbing it in a slow circle, and everyone else stands around a little awkwardly, like they don’t know what to say. Rachel’s eyes look shiny, Mercedes has tears on her face, and the rest of the original New Directions look like they might start crying any minute.

“I get it,” Finn finally says, his own voice feeling tight and rough. “Me and Puck had each other after Quinn— after she was gone. I kind of left you hanging, though, and you probably needed somebody, too.”

“But I shouldn’t have expected it to be you,” Rachel says, trying to smile. 

“Why shouldn’t you’ve?” Finn asks. “I mean, the last conversation we had before that would’ve made _me_ think I could have expected it, if it were the other way around, you know? That was on me as much as it was on you.”

“Well, we’ll just agree to disagree,” Rachel says, her smile getting slightly bigger. 

Puck clears his throat. “You could help teach Beth Hebrew,” he offers, half-grinning at Rachel, who starts to nod. 

“How many languages are you going to force on that poor child?” Kurt asks. 

“She’s gotta be multi-lingual if she’s getting into Harvard,” Finn says, and everyone else laughs. 

Puck looks at Finn and shrugs as Mr. Schue steps towards them. “Okay, guys. Let’s go win this one for Quinn— and for Beth.”

Rachel puts her right hand into the middle of the circle. “New Directions on three?” she says. 

Together, they all count aloud, “One, two, three. New Directions!”

 

Carole has been rummaging through the kitchen cabinets for almost twenty minutes before she sighs and calls out, loudly, “Boys? Have you seen the bag with the streamers and the confetti? I can’t find it anywhere!”

“Did you ask Kurt?” Finn asks. “Kurt probably knows. Kurt _always_ knows.”

“Is Kurt even here right now?” Carols says, standing in the doorway looking frazzled.

“I think he and Chandler are off again, so he’s probably locked in his room,” Puck says. “But I stole his phone.”

“Oh dear, _again_?” Carole asks, shaking her head. “What was it this time?”

“Mormons, I think,” Finn says. 

“They broke up over Mormons? That doesn’t make any sense at all,” Carole says. 

“No, just the Mormon musical,” Puck says. “I didn’t want Chandler calling during the party, though.”

“Oh for goodness sake, they broke up over the _Book of Mormon_?” Carole rolls her eyes. “At least I can count on the two of you to not be dramatic in your relationship. Or, not anymore, anyway.”

“Did you check in the trunk of your car?” Finn suggests.

Carole frowns. “For...”

“The confetti and stuff?” 

“Oh! Right! Thank you, Finn,” Carole says. She hurries to the garage as Finn shrugs at Puck.

“I don’t know why we need confetti,” Finn says. “Beej is just gonna eat it.”

“Maybe it’s edible confetti?” Puck shrugs. “Can you believe it, Bethie-girl? You’re one!”

Beth squeals “yay!” and claps for herself.

“I can’t believe she’s one,” Finn says.

“Me either,” Puck says, shaking his head. “We didn’t screw up.”

“Somebody should give us a medal,” Finn suggests. “Or a week off from diapers.”

“Found them!” Carole calls as she hurries back through the room. “Just have to get my purse to go pick up the cake! Get the tables and chairs set up outside while I’m gone, please!”

“Mom, there’s still two hours,” Finn says.

“And we’ll need all of that time to get everything else ready,” Carole says. “Chairs. Now.”

“Beth’s not going to notice the cake,” Puck whispers. “Or the chairs.”

“Yeah, she’ll just notice Granny Carole being crazy,” Finn says. “Is your Granny crazy?” he asks Beth.

“Mammy! Mammy!” Beth says loudly, looking at Carole.

“You’re not fooling me at all, little miss,” Carole says. “I know what happens if I try to bring you with me to get the cake.”

“Mammy! Up!”

“Mom, quick! Flee!” Finn says. “Go!”

“I’m gone, I’m gone!” Carole says, rushing out the door again, which makes Beth frown and smack Puck.

“Hey!” Puck says, frowning at Beth. “Don’t hit Dada.”

“Nanana!” Beth demands.

“You can have a banana,” Puck says, standing up, “but you can’t hit people.” He offers Beth his hands, pulling her up with him and then walking with her into the kitchen. “I don’t know,” Puck says as he grabs the bananas. “I don’t feel good about leaving her here for Nationals.”

“Yeah, me either,” Finn says. “I know it’s just the weekend, but she’s still so little. She won’t understand where we are.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Puck peels one banana and sets it on the high chair tray, then lifts Beth into the high chair. “I bet if someone asked if a one year old should be away from her mom for a weekend, they’d say no.”

“I still think Mom should come with us, and watch Beth while we perform,” Finn says.

“Yeah, we get what? Half a day or so to sightsee? Beth’d like that. Especially since there’s a subway and not a carseat,” Puck says. “Your mom’s gonna have to take off from work either way, right?”

“Right. Okay. Good. It’s good we agree,” Finn says. “We’re the parents, and what we say goes, so Beth goes with us.”

“Say ‘New York’, Beth,” Puck says, holding his hand up for a high-five. 

“No!” Beth says, high-fiving Puck with one banana-covered hand. 

“No York works, too,” Puck says, glancing at his hand and making a face before walking over to the sink. 

“Yeah, No York. No leaving Beth behind to go to No York,” Finn says.

“No, no, no, no,” Beth says agreeably, smashing the rest of her banana onto her tray. “Nanana. No nanana.”

“I bet we can find bananas in New York,” Puck tells her, wiping his hands dry and then walking over to Finn, leaning his head on Finn’s shoulder. “Hey. Look at her.”

“She’s a mess,” Finn says, “but she’s pretty awesome, isn’t she?”

“I think we’ve done pretty good,” Puck says. “Kinda miraculous or something.” 

“Nah, we’re both awesome, so it had to rub off on her eventually,” Finn says.

Puck laughs. “Yeah, that’s true. Funny how she’s not going to remember any of this. Hell, sometimes I don’t remember much detail.”

“She’ll remember how much everybody loves her, though. That’s probably good enough.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Puck says. 

“So I guess I’d better go set up all those chairs and tables, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Puck agrees. “I’ll keep Beth in bananas.”

Finn goes out to the back yard and gets all the tables and chairs set up, and he’s just heading back into the house when Carole gets home. “Oh, good, you got them all set up?” she asks.

“Yeah, it’s good to go. I was just about to go help Puck get Beej ready,” Finn says.

“Well, before you go down there...” Carole hands Finn a small wrapped package. “That’s for you and Puck.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks, Mom,” Finn says. He gives her a quick one-armed hug, and she looks a little teary-eyed when he lets her go.

“I’m just so proud of you boys, and the wonderful job you’ve done with Beth,” Carole says, wiping at her eyes with one hand. 

“Thanks, Mom. We had a lot of help.”

“Oh, I know that, but it was mostly the two of you,” Carole says. “Such a lucky little girl.” She wipes her eyes one more time and then takes a deep breath, putting on a smile. “You go get the birthday girl ready, and I’ll start putting together the snack trays.”

“Okay. We’ll see you in a little while,” Finn says. Carole goes into the kitchen, and Puck and Beth come out just a few seconds later. “Mom gave us a thing,” Finn says, holding up the package.

“Us? Not Beth?” 

“Nope, for us,” Finn says. 

“Oh. Cool.” Puck shrugs and picks up Beth to head down the stairs. “She can watch us open it as a refresher course, since it’s been a few months since Christmas.”

“I just hope she doesn’t get anymore talking Elmo toys,” Finn says.

“Ma-mo!” Beth says.

“Yeah, I know you love Elmo, Beej, but we think he’s creepy,” Finn says. “Sorry.”

“I asked Kurt a few days ago to hide any talking E-L-M-O toys,” Puck says. “As long as the Mormon musical breakup hasn’t distracted him, we can return E-L-M-O for something else.”

“That’s smart,” Finn says.

“Ma-mo?”

“Nope, we’re not talking about E-L-M-O anymore,” Finn says. 

“Go find Cookie Monster,” Puck tells Beth, setting her down on the floor once they reach the bottom of the stairs. “We have a present or something to open.”

Beth walks for a few wobbly steps before dropping onto her hands to crawl towards her toy pile. Finn walks over to the bed and sets the package on it, waiting for Puck to sit down, too. Puck drops down on the other side of Finn, throwing one leg over Finn’s leg. 

“Okay, let’s see what’s in this thing,” Finn says, tearing the paper off the package. 

“Kinda flat,” Puck points out. 

Finn opens the end of the box and upends it, letting the package contents slide onto the bed. “Picture frame?” he guesses, looking at the back of the gift.

“Well, that’s cool, I guess?” Puck says, shrugging. “Do we have any pictures that size?”

“No clue. Probably?” Finn flips the frame over and immediately smiles. “Or I guess we don’t have to worry about that.”

“Yeah?” Puck says, leaning against Finn to look at it.

“Yeah. All three of us,” Finn says, looking at the framed photograph of him, Puck, and Beth all dressed for Carole and Burt’s wedding. It’s not one of the posed shots, but it’s a good one.

“I told you we looked good,” Puck says triumphantly, nudging Finn’s side with his elbow. “Bethie-girl, come look.”

Beth crawls in their direction, grinning at them, and pulls herself up to standing on the edge of the bed. Finn leans over and pulls her up into his lap, holding the picture up for her to see. Beth pats the picture and says, “Dada. Fada.”

“And Beth, too,” Finn says, pointing out Beth in the picture.

“Ba ba ba.”

“Yep, Beth’s in the picture,” Puck says. “Are you ready to get dressed for your birthday party, Beth?” Puck stands up and takes the picture, squinting a little and holding it up. “Hang it up or have it sitting out?”

“Sitting out, maybe?”

“I’ll put it on the chest,” Puck says, walking over and moving things around until the frame is standing up in the middle of the chest of drawers. “Looks pretty good.”

“Yeah, it does,” Finn says. He stands up with Beth and walks over to Puck, putting one arm around him. “It’s nice. Like our first real family portrait.”

Puck grins. “I’m telling you, we’re doing Hanukkah cards this year.”

“I’m not wearing a stupid matchy sweater, though.”

Puck holds up his hand. “No matchy sweaters, I swear.”

Beth holds her hand up in Puck’s direction, straining to try to touch her hand to Puck’s. Finn laughs and moves her close enough to Puck to give him a high five.

Puck laughs, too. “I swear, and Beth high-fived it, so you know it has to be true.”

“It’s a deal, then,” Finn says. “Beej, you ready for your fancy first birthday outfit?”

“She’s probably going to tear those tights,” Puck says, shaking his head a little. “Jeans with that shirt might’ve made more sense.”

“Mom wanted her to have something special,” Finn says, shrugging. 

“She’d better take pictures first thing is all I’m saying,” Puck says as he gets out the outfit. “Beth _is_ our kid.”

“Yeah, she really is,” Finn says, grinning at Puck. Puck grins back and nods. 

Once Beth is in her fancy outfit, down to the shoes, Puck stands her up and takes one hand. “Grab Fada’s hand, Bethie-girl, and let’s go get your party started.”

 

When they’d put together the list for Beth’s party, it hadn’t looked like it had that many people on it, but apparently once that many people are all together in one backyard and house, it’s kind of a lot. After an hour of walking and crawling around with her baby friends, Beth is currently strapped into her high chair awaiting cake and singing. Her rainbow-striped tights already have a tear across one knee, but Beth seems happy anyway.

“Did you just want to give her the piece and let her dive in?” Carole asks. “I’ve got my camera ready.”

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” Puck says. “We could put the candle in her piece.”

“And I did double-check with the bakery that this cake was egg-free. I didn’t want... oh dear, which one is it that has the egg allergy?” Carole asks. 

“Ella,” Finn says. “No. Wait. Bella?”

“I thought both of them did,” Puck says quietly. “Maybe I was just seeing the same twin every time and didn’t realize it.”

Carole tsks and shakes her head. “Well, either way, we don’t want any anaphylactic shock at Beth’s first birthday party.”

“But we’d want it at her other birthday parties?” Finn asks. Carole swats him with the stack of brightly-colored napkins in her hand.

“Oh, you! Just go cut her a slice of cake and put the candle in it!” Carole says, shaking her head again. “Honestly.”

“Maybe some prophylactic shock?” Puck whispers under his breath to Finn as they go over to the cake. 

“Which we could have made happen if we’d put condoms in the goody bags,” Finn whispers back.

Puck laughs, covering his mouth when a few people look towards them. “Very few people here actually need them,” he says. 

“Maybe Jodi and Rebecca could use them to make balloon animals?”

“Wait, is _anyone_ here going to use them?” Puck says, frowning. “Man, I don’t know what that means.” 

“Maybe Burt and my— _oh my god_ , no, what was I thinking?” Finn says, groaning and covering his face. 

“Until the Mormons interfered, your brother maybe?” Puck says serenely, pulling out a lighter. 

“Sometimes I really don’t like you,” Finn says. “I’m taking Beej and moving in with, uh. Hmm. We already kind of live with half the people we know.”

Puck grins. “Sorry, you’re stuck with me.” He lights the candle and pockets the lighter again. “Okay, give Rachel her signal for her harmonies or whatever.”

Finn whistles, and when Rachel turns and looks in their direction, Finn gives her a thumbs-up. Rachel gestures at everyone, points at a few people, and then nods with a deep breath before starting to lead everyone in “Happy Birthday.” Ella and Bella look a little freaked out, but Beth just grins and claps her hand as everyone sings to her.

Puck puts the cake in front of Beth, candle burning brightly, and then hovers beside her chair. Finn laughs at the worried look on Puck’s face, because it’s not like Beth would ever have a chance to touch that candle before about fifteen different people swooped in to blow it out. Beth just stares at the flame with a fascinated look on her face while the song wraps up, then she claps as they all clap. Her claps move the air enough to blow out the candle, and Beth’s eyes widen as she stares at it.

“Yay, you did it, Beth!” Puck tells her, clapping again. 

“You blew out the candle! Sorta,” Finn adds. Beth keeps staring at the candle like she’s expecting it to catch on fire again, and she doesn’t make a move to try and eat the cake.

Puck reaches over and pulls the candle out, then pushes the plate towards her. “It’s cake, Bethie-girl.”

Beth sticks her fingers in the frosting, wrinkling her nose up, then crams her whole hand into her mouth. Her face changes into a huge smile as she realizes what she’s got in front of her, and she starts grabbing handfuls of the cake and shoving them into her mouth. Rainbow smears of frosting go everywhere, even in her hair and inside one of her ears, as she eats the cake as fast as she can.

Carole and Judy Fabray, whom Carole had insisted they invite, stand on the opposite side of Beth, snapping pictures as fast as Beth shovels in the cake. It’s a little weird having Ms. Fabray there, but not bad, and not nearly as uncomfortable as it had been to see her during the summer. Finn thinks it’s too bad that Puck’s mom didn’t accept the invitation, but it’s not like Beth doesn’t have plenty of family anyway. 

Puck squats down beside the high chair, laughing. “It’s not going to go anywhere,” he tells Beth. “And there’s even a whole big cake if you want more.” 

Beth grins even wider, holding out both her hands and loudly saying, “More!”

Finn says, “New word!” and hears Carole saying the same thing to Ms. Fabray.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Puck says to Beth. “That’s why I left Fada over by the cake, so he can get you more.” Puck looks up and smirks at Finn with a wink. 

“Fada is the cake-dad,” Finn says. “That’s why I’m the _best_ dad!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Puck says. “Poor Dada,” Puck says, shaking his head as he looks at Beth. “I didn’t know it was a competition.”

“Duh. That’s how I stack the odds in favor of me.”

Puck laughs and stands back up, walking over to Finn. “Yeah, that’s the only way you’re gonna win, is that what you mean?” he asks, leaning against Finn. 

“Obviously,” Finn says. “I have to have cake on my side.”

“You know,” Puck says slowly, his hand sliding around Finn’s waist. “Once we’ve placated them with cake, I bet no one would even notice if we stepped into the kitchen.”

“You’re probably right,” Finn says. 

Puck grins. “Want to?”

Finn smiles back and nods. “Yeah. I think that’s kind of the best way to celebrate Beej’s birthday.”

“It almost got beat by destroying the E-L-M-O toys, though,” Puck teases, pulling Finn with him towards the kitchen.

Finn laughs and gives Puck a kiss as they sneak in through the door. “No reason why we can’t do both.”


	7. Second Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year later.

Puck wakes up with a hand on his side—Finn’s—and a foot in his armpit—Beth’s. It’s not that different from most mornings, though Beth is sometimes sleeping in her own bed at least part of the night, and as Puck yawns, he remembers what day it is. 

“Happy second birthday, Beth,” he whispers, trying not to wake Beth or Finn up. It’s a Tuesday, which means they should be getting up and going to school, but since it’s Beth’s birthday, they aren’t going. 

Puck and Finn had decided that the facts that they were seniors, it was after spring break, their grades were still surprisingly good, and they have actual football scholarships for college were good reasons to skip school on Beth’s birthday and take her to the zoo. Carole had been a little dubious about it, but she hadn’t told them no, and that’s why Puck is the first awake without an alarm blaring to get them up in time for first period. 

After a little bit of careful wiggling, Puck can see Beth’s face and Finn’s face, and he studies them for a few minutes. He hadn’t expected any of it—not keeping Beth and raising her, not co-parenting with Finn, and definitely not the realization that he was in love with Finn—but watching them sleep, he feels deeply grateful all of a sudden, and he puts his hand over Finn’s, squeezing it. In a weird way, Beth’s birthday is an anniversary of sorts for Finn and Puck, even though it’s not anything they’ve talked about, and Puck smiles at Beth, who keeps sleeping. 

“Thanks, Bethie-girl,” he whispers, kissing her forehead before doing the same to Finn’s. “I love you.” 

Finn barely moves in his sleep, and Puck lies back down, putting his arms around Beth and Finn. “Love you both,” he murmurs, closing his eyes again. “Even if you two did cry about the matching Hanukkah sweaters.”


End file.
